The CONFUSION in the CRANIOTOMY
by etakkate
Summary: Let's go back to the season four finale when Booth wakes up in hospital after his coma dream… did Brennan just abandon Booth after major brain surgery to dig up Aztec's in Guatemala? No siree! Not in my Fan Fic world! This is what I think should have happened. Please remember to review, favourite and follow to receive updates as they come! Rated M.
1. Who are you?

**Once again, I'm reminiscing… watching through the older seasons of Bones (pre Hannah, of course). This fic takes us back to the hiatus between season four and season five. Back to when Booth wakes up from his coma after that amazing dream of him and Bren - married, pregnant and in _lurve!_**

 **There were a LOT of gaps to fill between those two seasons and many questions to answer - the main question being: "Why did Brennan seemingly abandon Booth after _major_ brain surgery to dig up Aztec's in Guatemala?**

 **Well, I hope this gives a bit of insight into what may have happened… please let me know if you'd like me to continue… and thank you for your reviews on my other stories!**

* * *

Booth blinks blearily up at his partner, "Who are you?"

Brennan huffs out a disbelieving laugh; her gut dropping with emotion as she backs up from him, "It's… It's _me_ , Booth… your _partner_."

Booth reaches weakly to tug her back by the hem of her jacket and continues, slurring a little over a dry throat, and trying out a weak smile, "I know it's _you_. You just… you look different is all… you look…" his mouth tips - lopsided with an intoxicated grin, "… _radiant_." After a moment of staring dreamily in her eyes, he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to re-orientate himself. Looking around, his other hand reaches for his head and he winces when it makes contact with his gauze-wrapped head, "Where am I?"

Brennan's eyes glint with the offhanded compliment and she holds out a cup of water with a straw for him to sip whilst she explains, "You're in hospital, Booth, you had a pilocytic astrocytoma - a tumour in the cerebellar region of your brain. When your neurosurgeon and his team went in, it became clear that it was only a low grade mass and that it had not undergone any neoplastic transformation which is very unusual in adult cases. I was so worried, Booth; you had a rather large bleed at one point but they were able to make a complete resection without any significant damage to the surrounding tissue." Noticing his blank look she smiles; her eyes bright as happy tears land haphazardly over his chest, "That's… _good_ news, Booth. You're gonna be okay."

His brow furrows in confusion, "Brain tumour?" finding the oxygen tube in his nose he pulls at it mumbling groggily, "Huh… I had a brain tumour!? I hardly even have a headache."

Smiling, she rearranges the tube so that it's back in his nostrils, and rests her hand tenderly on his stubble for a moment before dropping it to his shoulder. Heart finally calming down from the fright of him not recognising her, she gives a teary laugh, "That's good Booth, that's… that's _really_ good to hear."

He looks up at her; a proper, reassuring, Boothy smile spread handsomely across his face as he picks up her hand and pulls her even closer, lacing their hands together. Lifting her shirt gently with his free hand, to Brennan's _sweet-love-of-God_ disbelief, he rubs an adoring hand over her belly before reaching forward unsteadily to place a spine-tingling kiss over her navel, "And how 'bout you, Sweetheart? How's our little peanut going in there, huh?"

Tears immediately spring to her eyes and her heart thumps in shock as she whispers disbelievingly, "Booth… I'm not…"

He immediately looks up when he hears the lost tone of her voice and sees her red eyed, shaking her head, "Bren… no… did you… did you _miscarry_? Oh, baby, I'm so sorry."

His hands circle her waist and he goes to rest his head on her belly but she pulls back, confused, worried, "Booth, no, I didn't… you told me not to use your sperm, I respected your wishes… I didn't inseminate."

Booth pulls back sharply, his heart rate monitor increases and his face grimaces with the distinct feeling that he's trapped in a parallel universe; voice rising, "My _what_? You… what the hell are you talking about, Bren? You told me we were _pregnant_ with our _baby_ … that you… that you and I couldn't share our traditional glass of wine at night anymore… you said…"

Understanding dawns in Brennan's eye's… the _book_ … the _nightclub_ … the _baby_ … he thinks it's all _real_. "I'm Bones… not Bren… Bones…" She stutters unintelligibly and backs out of the way as two nurse's shuffle into the room.

A tall red-headed nurse lifts his arm to slide on a blood pressure monitor cuff and the other sooths stridently, "Calm down Mr Booth, c'mon easy now." Facing Brennan she ordered none too kindly, "I think it's best if you leave and come back when you're calmer thank you."

Booth sit's up, red eyed and shaking, "Bren, don't go, please, tell me what's going on!"

With the cuff inflated and the stethoscope over his pulse at the crease of his elbow, the younger nurse exhales, "He's bordering on tachy, Charlotte… and systolic's 187."

Pushing him down gently, the shorter and older of the two nurses warns him, "Okay there Seeley, we're going to have to give you something to calm you down now, son. Just try and relax okay?"

After cross checking the label and dosage with the red-headed nurse, the older nurse pushed a syringe of clear liquid into the cannula fixed to his left arm.

A burst of cold flushes up his arm and a sense of leaden calm washed through his body and he sighed; eyes drifting closed as the wave hits, "Wait, Bren… I love you, baby… don't… don't go… please…"

As he floats off into a drug heavy haze, the nurse's fuss and monitor until they are satisfied with his readings before turning to face a stunned and wide- eyed Brennan backed up against the wall.

Reacting with pure reflex, Nurse Charlotte goes into patient protection mode, "What on earth was that all about, getting him all wound up like that? He's recovering from a craniotomy for God's sake!"

Brennan's face crumpled as she slides down the wall. Five days of insomnia, dread, and anxiety - overflowing in a torrent of uncharacteristic, hiccupping sobs, "He doesn't… he doesn't know… he doesn't know who I am…"

…

 **Are you feeling for Brennan? Should I continue?**


	2. The Popping Candy in the Post Op

**Thank you for your encouragement and reviews! It really makes me want to continue with this story!**

 **A little Vincent Nigel-Murray factiod for you - the symptoms that Booth describes in this chapter ARE common for people who have undergone craniotomies... they describe it as being quite un-nerving and yucky. In some cases, people sitting beside recovering craniotomy patients can actually hear popping and groaning noises coming from their wounds. It can either be the bone flap grinding or as Sweets explains it in this chapter.**

 **Also, In my experience, those who have come face to face with death and those who feel as if they are clinging onto life tend to show a certain "clinginess". When my Dad was in hospital, he was too scared to have me out of his sight... this is what I'm trying to portray here with Booth and his reliance on Brennan.**

 **Anyway, please read, enjoy and review!**

 **...**

Booth's eyes open from sleep and search the room anxiously before landing on Sweets who's sitting a comfortable distance away, "Oh, hey Sweets. Where's Bren?"

Sweets stalls, "Oh… Doctor Brennan… she just stepped out for a bit."

Booth nods, his face betraying a look of confusion as he tests her title out on his tongue, "…Doctor Brennan…"

Sweets replies cautiously, "Yes, Doctor Brennan… Anthropologist."

Leaning back into the pillow he smiles sadly, "Yeah, _Bones_ , of course… I know. My _work_ partner…" more to himself, he whispered, " _just_ partners."

"So, how are you feeling Booth? Dr Brennan expressed some concerns..."

Booth looks frustrated, "I feel like I've been visited and neuralyzed by the Men in Black, Sweets. It's like someone's poured a bunch of popping candy into my skull… I can hear it creaking and groaning but not even a God damn headache to make it feel like it really happened!? It's… creepy."

"That would be due to trapped air and spinal fluid shifting within your head; it's quite a common side effect. It's also _entirely_ normal after an operation such as yours to feel a certain level of confusion and disorientation…"

Booth mumbled sarcastically, "Well, I'm guessing you're the Shrinky Sweets and not the Singing Bartender Sweets."

Sweets pouts a little, "What you mean by that Booth?"

Picking at the cannula plaster on his hand, Booth's jaw ticks restlessly, "I need to talk to Brennan. When's she gonna be back?"

Sweets sighs, brow furrowed in concern, "Booth, Dr Brennan was… I told her to go home – to shower and sleep."

Booth huffs a laugh and shakes his head, "The Brennan I know wouldn't be taking orders from a shrink, kid."

"Yeah, you see, that's the problem, Booth. She said that you _didn't_ recognise her."

Booth glares at his guest, offended, "Wha… I was _confused_ Sweets! I've just had my brain sliced and diced and put through the spin cycle. If you get her back here I can explain…"

"She said that you thought that you two were _married_ …" Booth was about to interrupt but Sweets continued, "But, she also explained to me why you may have thought that and I felt it best if I discussed that with you _personally_ before distressing her any further."

Booth looks concerned, "She's upset?"

"She's just… she's just super tired, Booth. She's been up here for the last week. She's not left until today and, although Dr Brennan is exceptionally adept at compartmentalising… she's got a lot on her mind to process just now."

Over the following 20 minutes or so, Sweets explains to Booth that Brennan had spent all four days of his coma writing aloud a fictional story that centred on the romance of Booth and Brennan as night club owners.

Then as if pulling vague dreams back from the dead to Booth's full consciousness, Sweets shares the story of Booth's real life, centring on the crime fighting duo of him and Bones and their relationship as work partners.

During this, Booth turns away to hide the tears of grief that slide unbidden down his face for a life dreamt and lost. And, to his credit, Sweets gives Booth as much privacy as one can manage in a face to face conversation by looking at his hands or his feet or the walls as he speaks.

Finally, emotionally exhausted, Booth gives a teary laugh, wiping at his eyes in frustration, "You're not punking me are you, Sweets? 'Cause that would be really, really…"

"No, Booth. I wish I was but, no."

Booth leans back into his pillow and closes his eyes, "Why would she do that? Why would she write a story about _us_ with our _actual_ names and our team and… being happily married to _me_? She's _anti_ marriage and anti _me_ for God's sake. Why would she write herself as my wife?"

Sweets pauses then leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees and steeples his fingers beneath his chin, "Have you ever had a fantasy, Booth?"

Booth laughs awkwardly, "Jeez, Sweets, this isn't a schoolyard, buddy!"

"I know it's an uncomfortable subject but, if you and Dr Brennan are going to be able to move forward through this then I think we need to be straight up and truthful about our feelings here!"

Booth grins and waggles his eye-bows but exhaustion keeps the mirth from reaching his eyes, "Are you having fantasies about me Sweets? Is that it?"

"No, Booth, I'm being _serious_ here! Why would Dr Brennan, off the back of wanting to become pregnant with _your_ donor sperm, write a story about you and her being happily married if she didn't perceive it as being a desirable notion?"

Booth sinks wearily back into the rigid hospital bed and sighs, his eyes burning with unexpected tears at Sweets' suggestion, "I'm just… I'm _so_ tired, Sweets. I've just been told that the love of my life is just my work colleague and nothing more than that and that my whole life is a satirical image of what I thought it really was...

"Don't..." he sighs, trying to reign in the emotion, "don't try and fill me with hope when hope isn't really there okay… just let me be… please."

Sweets shakes his head and stands, "Of course. Of course, Booth, I should have been more aware. You've just had brain surgery… just… there's no need to think about anything right now… just go at your own pace okay? And call me... anytime at all if you want to talk, okay?"

Booth manages a small, appreciative smile, "Thanks Sweets… I could just sleep for a year… honestly."

Sweets goes to leave but then turns back with a last word, "Just don't doubt Dr Brennan's affections for you Booth, okay? From what I've observed of you over the duration of our time together - you aren't merely work colleagues… and you're more than just coffee."

With that, the psychologist walks out with a heavy heart, praying to a God he doesn't know exists that this would all work out in the end for the unlikely couple. After seeing how positively distressed Brennan was, and learning of the story that she'd read, Lance Sweets is finally confident, without a shadow of a doubt that Brennan is completely in love with Agent Booth.

Everything that Sweets had written about the couple was now becoming very clear.

As he leaves Booth's room though, Sweets' concern lies in the fact that it was all happening way too fast, in the worst time and in the worst possible way. And he has to wonder if all of Agent Booth's feelings for Dr Brennan are genuine or if they are inflamed and aroused by the romantic nature of his coma dream.

He only hopes that it all works out in the end.

...

 **Want to know how Brennan's dealing? Do you feel bad for ol' Boothy boy? Please let me know what you think by hitting that "review" button!**

 **Another Vincent Nigel-Murray factoid for you - reviews make my fingers type faster... just sayin'**


	3. The Graphic Novels 4 the Gratefully Ill

**Thank you for your support and reviews!**

 **Just to give you an idea of price (and not giving the plot away) … the first issue mentioned in this fic would be well over $100,000 for a copy in OK condition. The others aren't as expensive but are costly just the same.**

 **Please let me know what you think…**

…

Brennan swallows down her nerves and steps into Booth's hospital room. He's sitting up as handsome as ever watching television. The gauze that was covering his hair has been removed in favour of a dressing that protects the shaved portion of the back of his head where the incision had been made.

A smile lights his face and his dry throat chokes out a whispered, "Bren!" He switches the TV off, clears his throat and tries again, this time thinking before speaking, " _Bones…_ hey! Thanks for visiting."

She steps into the room, carrying her handbag and a tote over her shoulder and smiles warmly, "Of course, Booth. I um, I brought you some things. I figured that you'd be bored… given that you're an active man with a strong aversion to sitting idle."

Brennan goes to drag a chair over to him but he taps the bed, silently imploring her to sit with him. Rather self-consciously, she sits on the bed so that she's facing him and, unable to reel herself in, she reaches up to touch his hair ever so lightly before smiling shyly, "How are you feeling?"

Booth dips his head to avoid her eyes, "Yeah I'm okay. Listen, I want to apologise for how I acted before… it was…"

She shook her head, "No, Booth, it's fine. You were disoriented and it's entirely normal under the circumstances that it would take some adjusting to. Please don't feel that you need to apologise. Let's just… let's just forget that it happened and go back to how things were okay?"

He looks to her and, for a moment, she thinks that the look in his eyes could match the sadness threatening to spill over in hers.

She pushes down the emotion, breaks eye contact and reaches into her tote, "So, I… I'm not sure exactly what genre you are particularly fond of but I have heard you make mention of Captain America and I noticed that you were looking at pictures of the Green Lantern in your bathtub that time with the beer helmet and cigar, so… I thought that you would enjoy some light reading. Though I hardly see the enjoyment in looking at pictures of imaginary characters with unrealistic mystical superpowers and hero complexes… I know that you enjoy reading comic books and your brain needs to repair so, the easier the better."

Booths eyes grow round as she pulls his tray table over and places a series of plastic sleeved graphic novels on top… "Captain America Issue one and two… Golden Age… Silver Age Green Lantern… Bones! I can't, I can't accept these… these are priceless issues, I can't."

Brennan frowns as she corrects him, "Oh… no, Booth, they aren't priceless. The salesman and I agreed on a price. Are they? Do you not like them?"

Booth laughs and looks at her in astonishment and he points to the Captain America comics, "No way, no, they're just… I've been looking for those two in particular for years, but… Jeez, Bones! They would have costed you a fortune!"

Brennan shrugs casually, "No. I am a best-selling author and a world leading scientist… relative to my income; it was not very much at all. I just… I'm not very good at this, Booth… but I… I want you to be comfortable."

He smiles, humbled, "Well, thanks Bones, really… it's way too much but I… thanks."

Offering a lopsided, conspiratorial smile, she looks down the corridor as if to check for witnesses before pulling out more spoils from her tote bag, "I also went against my better nature and stole some puddings off the lunch trolley for you."

Booths eyes light up as he reaches for one of the puddings and a plastic spoon, "Aw, Bones, you're an angel, you truly are!"

Brennan's heart skips with the compliment, "I'd hardly believe angels to be interested in stealing as theft is against the eighth commandment… even if angels _were_ real… which they _aren't_ "

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. You're still my angel." He mumbles into his lap as he concentrates on trying, and failing to rip the lid off his pudding.

Brennan blushes, but when she notices him struggling with the lid, she takes it from his grasp and peels it off effortlessly then hands it back.

He digs the spoon into the chocolate mix and reaches up to taste it when his hand begins to shake. He manages to get it into his mouth but not without spilling a blob onto his chin.

Without making a big deal, Brennan grabs a tissue from his bedside table and reaches to wipe it off – the tissue snagging a little on his 6 day growth. He continues spooning pudding stubbornly, shaking all the while until the tub is empty and he falls back against the upright bed - absolutely exhausted.

"God, I hate being so _weak_! Just eating a tub of pudding feels like running a marathon."

Brennan places a comforting hand on his bicep, "It's to be expected Booth. You're doing really well and you're only going to get better, I promise."

He closes his eyes, "Yeah, I know." He stops for a bit then, "There's other stuff too… It's weird ya know. I can feel noises in my head."

Brennan's brow furrows in concern, "You're hearing voices?"

He chuckles tiredly, "No, no, nothing like that. The nurse said it's the air trapped in my head from the operation gurgling around in there and also the bone shifting over the hole. It's worse when I eat but it's such a weird, sickening feeling it's… I get nightmares from it... it's weird."

Brennan gives a small, sympathetic smile, "Yes, I read about that. I imagine it would be very unnerving but it too will pass."

Booth sighs, "Yeah, I know." He pauses before sitting up a bit, looking into her eyes he asks, "Can you… can you check? See if you can hear it?"

He leans forward and she shifts so that her ear is almost touching his dressing and his head is resting on her shoulder. Tucking his nose into her neck, he breathes her scent in deeply and they both close their eyes with the overwhelming comfort of their embrace. Brennan's hearth thumps with the temptation of kissing his hair and his ear… and his neck, and so she settles for lacing her fingers within his.

They sit like this for a good couple of minutes or so; oblivious to the young psychologist who enters then quietly backs away after the guilt of voyeurism pricks at his conscience.

As their heart rates slow and relax, Brennan's eyebrows lift as an unusual creaking, groaning series of pops sound from beneath his wound, "Booth," she whispers, "Booth, I hear it. It sounds…" she shivers, "Ugh! I imagine it would feel quite unpleasant."

He lifts his head slightly so they're eye to eye, "You hear it?" seeing her nod he sighs in relief, "Thank God, I thought I was going crazy… I just… with the hallucinations and the dreams, I don't know what to trust anymore."

Brennan squeezes his hand, "You can trust _me_ Booth."

He smiles genuinely and, as if they'd done it a thousand times before, leans in to lightly kiss her lips. Cupping her cheek, he holds her there for a sweet moment or two before leaning back exhaustedly and closes his eyes, "I know, I know I can," and with a sleepy whisper, "thanks Bren."

Brennan's fingers reach to touch her tingling, smiling lips then lift a little further to wipe her leaking eyes.

She ponders the dangers of getting too attached to his expressions of love when she knows for a certainty that they exist only because of a dream… a dream that _she_ created… a dream that will surely fade away like all dreams do.

Comfortable that he's asleep, she kisses the life-worn creases above his eyebrows and leaves his room with more questions than answers and a distinct need for a session of body-wracking tears… or chocolate… or wine…

…or all three.

…

 **So what are your thoughts?**

 **Did you notice Sweets' entrance and exit? What do you think he'll have to say about what he saw (cause you know he's gonna have something to say, right?)**


	4. PET Scans and Petty Psychologists

**This story will deviate a little from canon in that Brennan does not leave for Guatemala straight after Booth is released from hospital.**

 **I hope you enjoy and please remember - the more reviews the more motivation to write. Thank you!**

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Walking briskly out of the hospital, Brennan hears the young, spritely voice of Dr Sweets calling from the vicinity of the café and turns with a frustrated eye-roll to see him waving her over, "Dr Brennan! Dr Brennan, come have a seat. I'll shout you a coffee."

She tries to turn him down, "That won't be necessary Sweets, I've got to get to the mall before close."

He shakes his head with a slight pout, "Oh come on, just a quick coffee stop won't kill you… and I'm just about to go see Agent Booth, maybe you could give me an update on how he's going?"

Without the energy to argue and in need of a caffeine hit, she gives in, sitting down with a sigh after ordering a coffee, "Well, he's a great deal better than yesterday… a little less confused. His oncologist has suggested that he'll be ready to be discharged tomorrow so I've got an extensive list of preparations that need to be made before I take him back to his apartment."

"Oh, so you'll be organising his after care?"

"Of course. Jared and Padme are abroad, Cam has come down with influenza and, Hank… well, after he almost burnt Booth's apartment down I didn't feel comfortable accepting his offer of help though I did say he was welcome to stay. I've got three weeks approved leave and months owing should anything unforeseen occur with Booth's recovery."

Sweets nods in agreement, "Well, you know I could take some time off and look after him. I'm a doctor after all."

She smirks in amusement over her coffee cup, "A psychologist, Sweets - hardly an advantageous doctorate for a care giver."

Placing her cup on the table, Brennan shakes her head, "No, I have extensively researched postoperative requirements and have compiled a comprehensive schedule of duties and necessities. There are many risks associated with craniotomies and tumor resection… I know what to look out for and what action to take if something goes wrong."

"I understand… you want the best for him, I get it." With his lips pursed, he prods cautiously, "You see, Dr Brennan, I'm just concerned about the intensity and suddenness of his feelings for you and how they may have an impact on _you_ given that they will most certainly fade over time. I'm simply worried that it may be a bit too much of an emotional burden for you to bear given your feelings for Agent Booth."

Tears of embarrassment spring involuntarily as the bluntness of his words hit her. The whole coma dream ordeal has forced her to metaphorically bare her soul. Everything she'd written was so very private yet, now, it's as if her deepest, most foolish and whimsical desires have been hung up for all to see. She clears her throat and forges on, "What I feel or do _not_ feel for Booth is completely irrelevant Sweets. I am, by all accounts and purposes the most suited person able to offer him the postoperative care that he needs to heal comfortably and without complication."

She composes herself and sits back in her seat wearily, "I've seen his PET scans, Sweets. It is very clear, comparing the pre and postoperative images that the sections of the brain relating to romantic love were latent until his coma dream at which point they became obviously aroused. I 'm under no illusion that his apparent romantic feelings for me will last any longer than any other of the short term side effects associated with his surgery and I am perfectly fine with that."

Sweets contemplates her explanation and makes a mental note to request copies of his PET scans, "That's an interesting observation Dr Brennan. I'm glad that you are aware of the inevitability of the situation. I just want you to be clear that I am here, as a friend who understands you _and_ Booth, to help you process your thoughts and feelings through this emotionally trying time."

Too mentally drained to argue and honestly a little grateful to have someone who understands her feelings without mockery (even if she refuses, point blank to admit them aloud), Brennan smiles, "Thanks Sweets. I appreciate your concern. I am certain that I won't need your assistance but I will keep it in mind nonetheless."

Draining her cup and placing it on the table, she stands, "With that, I must get going. I have quite a lot to accomplish by tomorrow."

He smiles politely, "Okay, well, take care and remember - I'm only a phone call away."

"That… is an inaccurate descriptor but I appreciate the sentiment just the same. Thank you."

Walking away, Brennan wonders, not for the first time, if she truly has what it takes to keep it together enough until Booth's more amorous side effects fade away as promised… not for the first time, and certainly not for the last time, she silently wishes that they don't.

* * *

 **Please review... and have a great day (or night) wherever you are in the the world!**


	5. Booth Goes Home

**Thank you to my loyal readers and reviewers!**

 **I am posting this one up early in the hopes of getting a few more reviews and also because I enjoyed writing it!**

 **I guess I should say at some point in this story... Obviously I don't own Bones... I'm just playing with them.**

 **I hope you enjoy reading it ;)**

* * *

With a flick of the switch, Booth's apartment is bathed in light and Brennan pushes him over the threshold as he grumbles, "I could have walked you know."

Her patience running thin with his nonstop irritability, Brennan rolls her eyes, "I _know_ , Booth, but I had to get this wheelchair up here anyway so unless you believe yourself capable of pushing me _and_ your luggage with that great, gaping hole in your posterior fossa then you'll have to admit that this was the most efficient way of getting us into your apartment without the necessity of a second trip back to your vehicle!"

He concedes with an irritated grunt, "Hmph. At least let me walk now would ya?! I feel like a baby who's been stuck in a stroller all week."

She mumbles an annoyed retort, "You're begining to sound like one too. Just... Booth, stop wriggling! Let me apply the brakes first."

With stubborn resolve, he manages to stand, shuffling from one fixed object to the next until he's walking down the hallway with a stabilizing hand against the wall, "And when can I take these stupid granny socks off… they're kinda ruining my big, bad FBI guy image here, Bones."

Brennan gently holds the elbow of his other arm to help him along, "We can do away with your Thromboembolic stockings when you're reasonably ambulatory, Booth, I told you that in the car."

"I can't see what good their doing, Bones, they're just a pain in my ass… makin' my legs all itchy and crawly."

"Booth, you sound like a whiny tweenager. As I've said numerous times, the stockings are essential in preventing the dangerous side effects of extended immobilisation, and the fact that you spent an additional four days on your back in a coma means you're even more susceptible to deep vein thrombosis and, even worse, pulmonary emboli."

He grins with tired eyes, "Ya know, all I got from all that squinty squint spray was _tweenager_ … haha, you know what a tweenager is Bones?"

She smiles, "Yes, Parker informed me that he is nearly a tweenager. Though merely colloquial, it is an American neologism for preteens - a portmanteau of the words _between_ and _teenager_." She gives a throaty chuckle, obviously preparing to be humerous, "You know a tweenage girl because she's too old for toys but too young for boys!"

Completely enamoured, he smiles crookedly, clearly the narcotics he took at the pharmacy on the way home are kicking in, "Bones, if I'm going to have any chance of understanding anything that come out over those… _pretty..._ pink lips of yours, you're gonna have to lay off the big words… just stick to two syllables or less, 'kay? My brain's all juiced up…"

She frowns, "I don't … understand."

He chuckles, "Yeah, I think it means I'm more than a little stoned."

As they reach his room, his mouth drops and he looks around. Taking in the new massive king size ensemble in the centre of his room and the neatly placed medical paraphernalia littering his bedside drawers, his face scrunches up over a whine, "Wha! What'd you do with my bed, Bones? I really, really _loved_ my bed!"

Lowering him down on the edge of the foreign bed, she tries to pacify him, "Don't panic, Booth, this is a hired bed. It's fully adjustable, see?"

She grabs a remote control and with a push of a button and an almost silent hum, the head of his side of the bed lifts to a seating position and the foot end lowers slightly. Helping him up onto it, she continues, "Your own bed is ready to be assembled and put back in here once you no longer require the comfort and convenience features of this one, okay? I figured you'd enjoy it, look – you've got your own remote control, Booth, I know you like them! It even has a built in massage feature to further prevent thrombosis, see?"

Handing him the remote, she points at one of the massage button and urges him to push it. When he does, his eyes close and his head falls back onto the head rest in pleasure as the massage function begins to grip and work his calves, "Mmmm… magic fingers…" He breathes out loudly in blissful, intoxicated contentment, "Ahhh… see, Bones? This is why I love you, Baby!"

It takes a couple of seconds for him to realise what he's said and when he does, his eyes, more than a little bloodshot, spring open and fall immediately to her wide-eyed stare, "Sorry. I'm just tired… and I feel _really_ good… it just... _slipped_."

She shrugs it off though clearly his affections make her skin tingle, "It's fine. I'm fine. So, are you… are you hungry? I could… I could ruffle up something for you to eat… or drink?"

He grins, "It's _rustle_ , Bones. You could _rustle_ up something for me."

Brennan smiles nervously, "Rustle then."

Yawning, he closes his eyes and swipes blindly till he catches her hand, giving it a loving squeeze, "Nah, I'm good. Hey, listen... sorry for being a grumpy tweenager Bones. I really appreciate everything that you've done. I'm just gonna get some shut eye before my brain explodes, 'kay?"

She sighs, "Okay. Sleep well, Booth"

Brennan holds his hand till it falls limply out of hers and when she's sure he's asleep, reaches down to kiss the laugh lines beside his eyes.

As she walks out of the room, though she doesn't notice, the lines on Booth's face grow deeper with a contented smile. " _Maybe Sweets wasn't so far off the mark after all!"_ is his last lucid thought before he drifts off peacefully to the land of nod.

* * *

 **Would you like more?**

 **Drop me a review (or put me on alert/ favourite) and I'll get on it!**

 **Have a great day!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you again for your reviews!**

 **I'm in the middle of the Australian outback at the moment with my husband and two children - camping at my Aunty's beach hut.**

 **At the crack of dawn, we're woken by the resident kookaburra who laughs her morning spiel perched upon the clothesline.**

 **Old Mister Goanna who's painstakingly dug his burrow under the foundations of our rudimentary hut, hides underground at the sound of her voice.**

 **…** **and every time we got to the toilet, we have to kindly ask the frogs that line the bowl to not tickle our butt cheeks as we pee (unless you're my son… he just takes aim at them and fires).**

 **Driving into town, if it's high tide and the water is over the road, we'll see little tadpoles and guppies flicking their bodies over the tarmac in a desperate bid to reach deep water.**

 **I've already run over one kangaroo (yes, I cried… but in my defence, it was already dead when I crossed it.) I missed a wallaby by a hair's breadth this morning as I was coming back from town.**

 **Anyway, sorry for the long intro… I just thought I'd share with you the reason why I haven't had internet to reply to reviews and post another chapter.**

 **I hope it was worth the wait (Please tell me if it was!)**

 _Struggling up to the surface feels like swimming through molasses… so much effort, so much resistance and so little ground being covered… Booth's nostrils breach the current and he pulls a deep, desperate breath in to satiate his starving lungs._

 _As if by a dream induced mirage, Brennan appears before his drowning form. She cups his face gently in her open hands and pulls his face out of the water. He smiles, gasping and yet oddly comforted. After all the effort of running through thick pudding with his feet suctioning him down; drawing him into the mud, he's exhausted… running? Or was he swimming? He can't really remember… it's all so foggy now and such a vague, distant memory._

 _Brennan smiles warmly, stroking his face tenderly, whispering confessions of love and apologies._

 _Then as gradually as the hot rising sun, her eyes transform from ice-ocean-blue to mackerel-sky-orange - wild and burning as her hands clamp painfully around his mandible and tightly around the base of his skull._

 _Writhing, he tries to scream and yet, when he opens his mouth, it floods and his voice is smothered in thick, oozing, golden honey. He grasps at his throat; his hand pulls away - sopping with sand laced sludge… only it's bright red – thick, sticky and warm, like blood._

 _The pain radiating from Brennan's palms against his head is beyond unbearable… he thrashes, paying particular attention not to strike her. Yet, as he thrusts his gummed limbs about, the less he's able to move as the walls close in; liquid again flooding down his throat and swallowing his lungs; lead weights pull and drag at his limbs - completely drowning any effort to breathe in let alone speak or scream._

 _Brennan's palms clamp even tighter… relentless and unyielding; her eyes glowing an evil red now - incandescent in the near darkness of the room… all until Booth's bones surrender like crumbling bricks… popping and groaning; cracking and moaning in forfeit._

"Booth! _Booth!_ Wake up! Please wake up!" Brennan's panicked voice lunges into the black darkness of his dreams and pulls him out utterly dripping in pain.

"Oh, God! Bones!" Grasping his head, Booth is rendered speechless as the pain envelopes his body like a spirit possessed soul.

Finely tuned to his body's reflexes, Brennan grabs a chucky bag in time to catch the raw prelude to a series of dry reaches. Rubbing his back she sooths, "It's okay, Booth… I've got you… I'm here… you're okay."

Hands tightly clutching the base of his skull, Booth moans, his whole body nodding deeply in an effort to alleviate the agony, "Oh, Oh, Oh, God, Please, Oh God, Bones, Please, Stop…"

Almost in a state of panic beneath her calm facade, Brennan begins to prepare a concoction of medications to help him through the pain. Gripping his shoulders gently but firmly, she speaks clearly, "Booth! Booth, I know you are in pain… I'm going to help you, okay?" Without expecting a response from his almost catatonic state she continues, "I'm going to give you an injection of Maxolon into your thigh, this will alleviate your nausea and your urge to vomit and allow you to swallow some pain meds, okay? Once I've administered the Maxolon, I will administer a dose of morphine orally. Booth, this will help with the pain, okay? Please try and co-operate, please."

Groaning and still clutching his head in pain, he sobs in understanding, "Okay, okay, just do it… please just do it… and stop yelling at me!"

With shaking hands, Brennan triple checks the Maxolon dosages, silently thanking Cam for her forethought in supplying the intravenous drug, rubs Booth's thigh with an alcohol wipe, takes a breath, then pierces the skin and pushes steadily.

With nothing more than a slight cold flush from his knee northward, Booth squints painfully, clearly panicked, he moans, "Jesuz, Bones, It's worse… Holy… Mary… Mother… of God! Bones, please!"

"Booth! Booth! You're going to have to take the morphine orally… the Maxolon injection will help make sure you don't vomit it up, okay? Open up."

Booth's mouth springs open like a bald, hungry chick… two tablets over the tongue and a mouthful of water later, his saviour is swallowed and his eyes water with bleeding gratitude.

After a good 20 minutes of incoherent dream talk, Booth's consciousness surfaces again amidst a cold sweat; pain at a sharp but bearable 4.5; limbs weighted and heavy with the exertions of his dream trekking.

Thankful for the warm face cloth on his forehead, he mumbles, careful not to move in case the hammer in his head resumes it's soul-thumping beat, "Bones, what's going on? Has my head busted open again?"

She sighs, relieved that he seems a little more lucid, "I'm sorry Booth, I let you sleep a little longer than you should have and you missed your sheduled pain medications. I will _definitely_ not do that again, I promise."

"S'okay. I'm okay now. Sorry for yelling."

She pulls the thermometer from under his arm. Content that he's not running a temperature; she reassures him, "You weren't yelling. It's fine. Where's your pain at now?"

Still with his eyes closed he murmurs, "S'about a three"

Brennan nods, rubbing a soothing hand along his bicep she enquires, "Booth? Are you hungry? You're probably best off eating something with that morphine otherwise it may irritate your gastrointestinal lining."

"Hmmm, a little. I'm just a bit scared to move though."

She gently plucks the face cloth from his forehead, "You should be 'right now. Would you like me to raise the bed a little for you? I lowered it whilst you were sleeping."

He opens his eyes slowly and tests out a small nod, "'Kay. Thanks, Bones. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Smiling, Brennan raises the head of the bed until he's sitting. "Well, at least you won't have to find out. Grilled cheese sandwich okay? Hank entrusted me with your family's secret recipe."

Booth chuckles and offers her a groggy charm grin, "Ah, well you're officially part of the family now then if he's let you in on _that_ secret. Honestly, I couldn't eat anything other than grilled cheese sandwiches."

12 and a half minutes later, Brennan raises the head of the other side of the bed and jumps on beside him with a breakfast tray full of spoils. She shuffles to the middle of the bed and slides the tray over so that it's resting across both their laps.

With no need for an invite, Booth grabs eagerly at the warm sandwich, "Mmmm, this is the stuff!"

Biting in, Brennan giggles as cheese oozes out and over the edge of her crust. Catching it with a finger, she pulls at it creating a thinning string of cheese, wrapping it again and again around the sandwich 'till it snaps, "Messy, messy."

He watches her, smiling in love struck admiration, "That's half the fun of eating it Bones. The messier, the funner."

One side of her lips lift in a smirk, "That's not even a word, Booth."

"Oh, boo, you're no fun." He holds her eyes for a couple of seconds then winks over a cheeky smile, "Except you are… you're just bucket loads of fun."

Brennan laughs; her mind imagining buckets filled with confetti.

Swallowing his mouthful, Booth clears his throat, "So, what time is it anyway?"

She pulls the phone from her pocket and checks, "It's two minutes to midnight."

His smile grows to a conspiratorial grin, "Midnight snacks, Bones. This is the definition of fun – good company, sleepovers, messy grilled cheese sandwiches, and midnight snacks."

She can't help but smile at his childlike glee, "So, I take it your head is feeling better?"

He nods a little, "Yeah, heaps better. Just shows how much the pain meds make a difference. As long as you can handle the crazy, medicated me."

"The medicated you is much more fun… plus, I am privy to all your deep, dark secrets when you're high on narcotics. Though morphine is not as much of a truth serum as Vicoden is." She winks with a flirty smile, "You're very sharing of your thoughts on Vicoden."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Like what?"

"Like, how you _like_ me."

He chuckles with a shake of his head, "Nah… I don't like you Bones. You should know that by now."

"Yes you do. You _like_ me, you really _like_ me." She sings teasingly in reminiscence of how they teased Sweets outside of the courthouse.

Finishing off the last of his sandwich, he drops the crusts on the plate, his head falling back onto the head rest, eyes dropping to hers, "No, I don't _like_ you, Bones, you know I don't... I love you." His voice sobers, "And when you catch up with that I'll be waiting." He closes his eyes, the emotional and mental exhaustion kicking in.

Brennan's grin tapers off, "Booth, you don't know what you're talking about… like I said, you don't react so well with narcotics and that coma dream has messed with your emotions…" looking down to pick at her fingernails self-consciously she sighs, "trust me… I've seen your brain scans, Booth – these feelings will fade."

Eyes still closed, he scoffs, "Brain scans, shmane scans! You're a genius, Bones, I know that much but sometimes your just plain wrong. Don't assume you know what other people think… you gotta know you're not real good at that."

As his consciousness dims, her eyes prick with unwanted tears at his insult.

She swipes angrily at the streaks of salt water coursing down her cheeks, gathers the breakfast tray and retreats to the kitchen, silently promising herself that she'll be more vigilant at guarding her emotions around her partner.

This new emotionally open Booth is wreaking havoc on her emotional resolve and it'll take nothing but iron will to fight it… but determined Brennan is, because she is a scientist who trusts tangible evidence, and all tangible evidence points to the fact that Booth's affections for her are fabricated and fleeting…

…

 **God, I just want to lock them both in a closet and swallow the key!**

 **Who do you feel for more? Brennan or Booth?**

 **Please review and let me know if you want more chapters!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you so much for your reviews and also for the guest reviews - I appreciate each and every one even if I can't reply!**

 **Sorry I took so long with this one! I've been so sick I had to take my first ride in an ambulance… I was in so much pain, I honestly thought I was one of those women who didn't realise they were pregnant until they presented at hospital in labour, LOL! But I'm good now (8kgs lighter, yay) and still only have two children (thank goodness).**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter; I made it a little longer as** ** _thanks_** **for your patience…**

Opening his eyes, Booth blinks a couple of times and scrubs a rough hand over his face in an effort to wake himself up a little. Brennan had lowered his bed some time in his sleep and the sunlight is now peeking cheerfully through the blinds, playfully tempting him outside. He's not in much pain because, without bringing him to full consciousness, Brennan had administered his pain medication only three hours prior… just a crick in the neck lingers that no amount of drugs could completely mask so soon after major brain surgery.

He rolls from facing his bedside table towards the middle of the bed, arms stretching like triangles from his body. Stalling mid-yawn at the heart-bubbling sight before him, he smiles reflexively….

Brennan's face is tipped towards Booth, arranged in an adorable sleep heavy pout. Her hair, swept messily across her forehead, puffs feather like wisps against her cheek with every light snore that escapes her nose. With an Ipad hugged face-up to her belly, she clearly did not mean to fall asleep lying across from him on his bed but Booth sends a silent prayer of thanks to God for the sweet, sweet blessing.

With all the preparations she's made and paid for, the strict, attentive care and thoughtfulness she showers upon him, Booth's been wondering more and more lately if holding hope of requited love is really all that crazy after all.

He watches adoringly as her eyes glint back and forth under their lids in REM sleep…

 _I've always known that Bones is_ the one _… I knew it right from the moment I saw her preaching de-fleshing techniques over a dead guy in a bubbling tub in front of a classroom full of squints._

 _I honestly don't know why I've held back all this long, thinking that I've got forever._

 _Maybe it's fear – fear that she's not interested… but It's not every day that you almost die from a brain tumour._

 _It's not every day that you get punched in the face with the reality of how short and temporary life really is._

 _And it's not every day that you get to experience your life so vividly from the flipside – in a relationship with all the bells and whistles with the love of your life._

 _That coma dream was a gift… it was the revelation I needed to realise I'm only half alive and that's all I ever have been._

 _It's like I've been living my life in black and white and now that I've experienced colour; and the sunshine on my skin, the wind in my face and the sand beneath my feet… I just can't imagine my life any other way._

Perhaps his boldness can be attributed to the tail end of a good, solid dose of narcotics, but before he thinks twice, Booth rolls so that he's leaning over her sleeping form and, taking great care not to move her, presses the button to bring her Ipad back to life to see what had her so bored that she fell asleep reading…

Only she hadn't been reading… she'd been writing…

...

I feel naked… every inch of my skin is raw and on display

Never before exposed to the air let alone shadowed beneath the light of day

…

I'm blistering, oozing … under the scrutiny of a thousand eyes

And now I'm left deciding – either bare the embarrassing truth or the guilt of my lies

…

I feel inundated… flooded with emotion yet floundering mid air

My legs thrash… Where once was solid earth - now there's simply nothing there

…

This dream: this dream I created… like a rod for my own back

You say you love me, Booth and, God knows I love you back

…

But you're love is a Phantom, a fallacy, a ruse borne from your injured mind

Your love will surely fade soon, and like every other symptom - be rendered blind

…

And this is the reason… the reason I'm denying my soul's desire

Because I know it will pass for you but for me it burns endlessly like an untamed wild fire

…

Booth, I love you but, given our quandary, I've got to let you go

If you're still in love with me after healing then, please show me apropos

And if, God granted - you still feel the same for me, if you love me as you say

Then I'll be here waiting for you, as I have been forever; for each and every day

…

Booth swallows and leans back down on his side of the bed… never, in a million years had he ever thought Temperance Brennan capable of such heart clenching, honest prose. He wonders if his mind is playing tricks on him… that wouldn't be unusual – alongside hallucinations, alternate realities, and dream worlds; a simple mind trick would be barely a blip on the radar of strange.

He sighs, thinking about what she'd written. Without realising it, his mouth turn up with a child-like, enchanted smile, _"She really loves me!"_ he thinks gleefully as he stares at the ceiling.

Brennan stirs beside him and he tips his head to look at her, "Good morning beautiful." His hand gestures between them, "This is a nice surprise."

She ignores his flirting, her eyes scrunching in inquiry, "Why are you wearing such a farcical grin? It's the Vicodin isn't it?" she rolls to get up, "You are always so funny on Vicodin."

He feigns offence, "What? Can't a guy just be happy to be alive and in such good company?"

She places the Ipad on the bedside table and begins to gather his medications together, scribing them neatly into his pharmaceutical schedule, "Well, you are fortunate to be alive. What would you like for breakfast? I can make you an omelette if you like?"

He stretches and sits up, "That sounds amazing, I'll help you."

The side of her lip curves in the slightest of smiles, "Okay. Let's get your morning medication out of the way first."

She hands him a medicine cup of a viscose, light brown substance to swallow and lines up a colourful selection of tablets, "Bottoms up!"

He swallows the liquid; face contorting with the taste, then takes the offered water, swishes it around in his mouth then swallows, "That better be worth it… bleh… gross."

She smiles and winked, "Oh, it'll be worth it when you don't have to sit straining on the toilet."

"Gah, Bones! TMI. I don't need to know."

"Well, you should know what is going into your body and why."

"Nah, that's what you're for – to translate all the squint print for me."

She nods, "Okay, well, here," She hands him his pills, explaining each one as he chugs them down, "This one, dexamethasone, is a steroid. It prevents your brain from swelling."

He swallows them down and laughs, "Well, we wouldn't want my brain to swell would we."

Agreeing, she smiles, "No, your brain is swollen enough thank you," handing him the next lot, she explains, "Keppra, this is an anti-convulsant… it prevents seizures." She drops a couple of capsules into his palm, "These ones are antibiotics."

"Why do I need antibiotics? I don't have an infection?"

She shakes her head, "No, they're prophylactic antibiotics… preventative.

"This is Warfarin. They'll wean you off this shortly, as you become ambulatory. It's an anti-coagulant to prevent deep vein thrombosis and pulmonary embolism." Popping two white tablets out of their foil packaging, she carries on, "And last but not least, these are antacids. The steroids and narcotics are quite damaging to your gastrointestinal tract so these will alleviate any associated discomfort and prevent any consequential damage."

Booth swigs the last of his meds, "Gah! I feel like a walking pharmacy."

Brennan's face scrunches curiously, "Well, you're not exactly walking."

He stretches his arms above his head and then proceeds to stands stiffly, "Yeah, well I'd like to go for a walk outside today if that's okay with you… I think I'm getting cabin fever."

Brennan shakes her head in disagreement, placing her hand gently across his forehead to check, "No, your temperature is fine, Booth… and I'd like to walk outside with you today - It's a considerably pleasant day. Perhaps we could walk the Anacostia Riverwalk? It's almost three miles but I'd be more than happy to bring the wheelchair for when you're tired and at least then you'll be out and about."

His heart warms with her thoughtfulness, "That sound perfect, Bones. Ya know, you don't have to stick around with me if you've got other stuff to do, though. I know you're busy being a world famous anthropopologist and bestselling author. No need to be spending all your time with this injured small fry."

Brennan wordlessly offers her elbow to assist him into the kitchen, "Booth, we're partners… it's what we do, right?"

Booth shifts his head to the side, struggling to keep his eyes from watering. Looking all round, up, down and round about to evenly distribute the tears against his eyeballs so that they didn't breach his cheeks like a cry baby, "No, Bones, the way you're taking care of me is more than just partners," he coughs to clear the grateful tears, "You're a priceless friend, Bones… you truly are… and without getting all gushy and sappy, I want you to know that I really appreciate it, 'kay?"

She smiles with heartfelt humility and helps him sit at one of the kitchen stools, "I can't imagine reacting any other way, Booth." She pauses, wondering if she's offering too much of herself, "I find myself struggling deeply seeing you… hurt and… in pain… I've seen my fair share of medical procedures but I've never felt _anything_ like what I did when Dr Jersick drilled into your occipital lobe, Booth. I actually felt nauseous. My whole body reacted viscerally."

He grabs her hand and holds it, rubbing a comforting thumb over her palm, "Yeah, well, you're human, Bones… that's a good thing, okay?"

"I know… But, you specifically requested that I be in there for your operation… and I… I had to leave, Booth, I'm sorry… I know you wanted me there but I just… I had to be _sick_." She whispers the last word with disdain and her face pinches as if she were sucking on a lemon.

"I went to go back in only to be told that they had struck a bleed…It did not look good. Your blood pressure dropped severely." Tears spring to her eyes and her voice deepens with emotion, "I began to tell you in no uncertain terms that you were not allowed to leave me again. I kept saying it over and over and… I know that there's no true logic to explain it but I believe you heard me… and you… you stabilized." Brennan takes a moment to centre herself, "Anyway, I'm sorry for the emotional digress … I just felt the need to explain… in case someone said that I wasn't there for you."

He looks at her disbelievingly, "Of course you were there… _are_ _here_ for me, Bones. No one has ever been there for me like you have since Pops… and he's blood."

Feeling the weight of the moment, she reclaims her hands and begins searching the fridge for ingredients, trying to lighten the mood with humour, "Well, if ever I get a pilocytic astrocytoma you can return the favour."

He shoots her a charm-laced grin and a wink, "With pleasure, Bones, with pleasure."

…

 **I know they're a little OOC but I hope you enjoyed it… please review and let me know :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm soooo sorry it's taken so long to get back to this story! This is the longest chapter so far to make up for it.**

 **For those lovely folk who were concerned, it turns out I had an allergic reaction and I am almost 100%. Thank you for your well wishes.**

 **This chapter is most likely the smuttiest I have ever written (and I've changed the rating of this chapter to reflect that) so if you aren't into smut, please skip to the last two paragraphs and read from there.**

 **Please review to let me know if you want me to continue.**

* * *

Helping his exhausted frame through the door of his apartment, Brennan shakes her head in worry. He had pushed himself too far at the Anacostia Riverwalk this afternoon. She had taken the wheelchair but her invites to sit in it and be pushed had fallen on selectively-deaf ears until he all but collapsed into the chair just after the half way mark… Brennan was sure she'd heard him snoring by the three quarter mark.

Brennan could handle tired, snippy Booth but, lately, tired Booth meant shitty, frustrated, punch-a-hole-in-the-plasterwall- _pissed_ -Booth and all her defenses were beginning to strain under the weight of his mulish refusal to admit that this surgery has brought with it certain limitations and weaknesses.

But that's what makes Booth, _Booth_ , and Brennan had to admit she would be just as stubborn if their roles were reversed.

Swinging his arm over her shoulder, Brennan guides him down the hall, "Here, let me take your weight. I've got everything set up in the ensuite so that you can have a quick wash down."

Surrendering wordlessly to her request, Booth allows her to lead him into the shower and, with her help, strips down to his boxers and lowers himself shakily onto the shower seat – just one of the countless items Brennan had purchased to make his home recovery easier. Picking absently at his fingernails his voice cracks feebly over a weak breath, "God, I hate this… I feel so _fucking_ useless!"

Standing behind him, Brennan rubs a small amount of organic baby shampoo between her hands and gently begins to massage it into his scalp, careful to avoid touching his staples. "Booth, go easy on yourself okay? You're rehabilitating at a remarkable rate even if you don't feel like it."

He scoffs and she wonders if there are tears choking his voice, "I used to be able to _run_ that whole track twice, Bones, _twice…_ without a break!"

Hating seeing him so defeated, her eyes swell with benevolent tears as she adjusts the temperature of the hand held shower head and begins to rinse his hair, "And you will again… one step at a time. I'll make sure you do, Booth."

After a few moments of silence he asks, "Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why do you care so much, Bones?" Despite the seriousness of his question, his head tips back in pleasure and he breathes an almost inaudible moan as the hot water sooths his tired head and shoulders. When she doesn't answer, his eyes open to search for hers but he finds them closed, intensity etched into the worry lines of her face, her fingers carving blindly through his sodden hair.

"Bones?"

Springing open with the sound of his voice, her eyes are round with surprise and without warning; a tear falls… and he tastes it on his lips and it's like a soothing _kiss_ – breathing life back into his despondent soul. Their eyes lock and the air between them is thicker than the steam that rises from the water. He lifts a hand to reach behind her neck and pulls her lips down to meet his.

The upside-down kiss is inelegant at first but, impatient to feel more, Booth slides himself around so that he's facing her and she responds by dropping her knees to the wet tiles between his legs, the hot spray of the shower muffled and surging between their bodies. His hands seek to frame her face in a juxtaposition of desperate need and tender awe whilst his tongue coaxes hers with confidence and raw craving.

Feeling the pulse of her heart right through to her fingernails, Brennan runs her hands solidly up his legs until she reaches his ass, digs in and pulls him impossibly closer. Struggling for a breath, she breaks contact, gasping then moaning with surprised carnality as his lips waste no time – nipping greedily at her throat, "Booth, Oh God…"

His fingers clear a path along her body for his lips – plucking at the buttons of her blouse, peeling back at the wet fabric to expose more of her to him. Tugging vainly at the lace cups of her bra, Booth gives up and his mouth latches on overtop the lace to nibble and sooth at a pert, aching nipple, "Jesus, Bones, you're so fucking sexy."

Brennan whimpers, impossibly turned on as he pushes her blouse off her shoulders and drops it with a wet thwack onto the tiled floor. Reaching up to grasp onto his shoulders, Brennan hums her appreciation of the strength she finds there and memories flash through her consciousness of all the times his powerful body has saved her life.

Needing his lips on hers, she pulls Booth in to kiss her once more, desperate to show him what she can't admit in words. Her hands explore the masculine strength of his body, every dip and curve, every scar, every perfect flaw, until she reaches the nape of his neck and a fingernail nicks the hard metal of the staples in his scalp.

As sudden as the spring of a mouse trap, she pulls back gasping for air, the shower head dropping to the floor and flicking wildly between them like an unmanned fire-hose.

Fighting to catch their breath, her hands drop to his panting chest, "Booth, we can't… you could… there's risk of seizure… haemorrhage… I couldn't…" her eyes begin to tear up and she swipes for the shower head, securing it under her knee, "I'm sorry. Just let me… I'll finish you off here and get you into bed so you can rest."

To her surprise, Booth laughs, despite his burning frustration and cups her face sweetly, "No need to finish me off Bones. I'll manage."

She smiles innocently through her water-drop-laden lashes and reaches for the soap, "I insist."

Starting at his neck, Brennan rubs a set of reverent, soapy, massaging hands over his tight shoulders, arms and chest. Her hands slow and halt over the taught, faint scar that mars his right pectoral; her smile dims as she breathes out over a sigh, "I… thank you."

His eyebrows draw together, "For what?"

She circles a soapy finger around the scar and, hinting to the night he jumped in front of a bullet for her, she whispers, "I never said thank you for… doing what you did that night."

Booth tips her chin up with his thumb and brings his lips to hers for a soft, lingering kiss, "Hey, I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

She smirks a little as her hands continue their journey across his hard abs and down to the waistband of his boxers, "Yeah, well, don't."

He chuckles nervously and grabs at her wandering hands, "I can take it from here Bones."

She smiles, opens her mouth to speak then hesitates, "Can I… can I watch?"

Looking to the ceiling, he groans as his cock swells achingly, "Bo-nes! God… give me strength!"

"What? I'm… I'm _curious_. I'm certain you have nothing to worry about, Booth. Even whilst flaccid, you have above average length and girth if I remember correctly and I have an eidetic memory, so…"

An amusing shade of red spreads from the tips of his ears, "What the hell? When have you ever…?"

"In your bathtub, after you were shot." She adds with an impish purr, "I was… _quite_ impressed."

His eyes dilating dangerously, Booth's hands reach for her waist and he pulls her close, "Bones, just wash this God-damn soap off me and get me back into bed would ya…" He leans in to breathe over her lips before capturing them in a hot kiss, "I need to show you something."

Reaching for the shower head, Brennan takes her time washing the soap off whilst Booth keeps her mouth busy; his hands traveling firmly up her torso to cup her laced covered breasts, flicking teasing fingers over her nipples through the annoying fabric.

When they are once again gasping, hearts racing, Brennan reaches around to turn off the shower and stands up, offering him a clean towel to dry his face and torso. Grabbing another towel, Brennan begins to carefully towel the areas of his head that still has hair, then, stripping down to her panties and bra, she wraps the towel around her body and tucks it in to hold it tight against her.

Helping him to his feet she adjusts the bathmat with her toes, "Be careful, it's slippery."

As they make their way to his room, Brennan reaches for her suitcase.

"Don't."

She looks up at him and meets his dark eyes in confusion, "What? I need to get dressed."

"No you don't."

"Booth, you need a doctor's clearance to engage in sexual inter…"

"I know, but _you_ don't."

"What do you…"

He halts her question by tugging at her towel and letting it drop to the floor, leaving her all but naked at the foot of his bed, "Temperance… let me…" unable to finish his thought, he leans in and captures her lips.

This time it's different though - the tone of the room shifts and instead of lustful and needy, Booth slows the kiss to a languid, loving pace. He pushes her to sit at the edge of the bed, "Lay back for me, Bones."

She pushes her bottom along the sheets until her head reaches the pillows and watches him silently, scrutinisingly as he goes to his dresser, strips out of his wet boxers and replaces them with dry ones, her eyes widening in appreciation of his toned ass. She smiles proudly when she sees the faint, red fingernail marks from where she had grabbed him in the shower.

He stalks back over to her and climbs onto his side of the bed. She can see he's fatigued but she can also see the intensity in his eyes, and in the way that every muscle across his chest seems to tighten like a concrete dam wall, controlled; holding back a flood that threatens to drown them both if they're not careful.

He leans over her and cups her face, "I want to make you feel loved Temperance."

He takes her lips and swallows her doubting reply, heating her up into a frenzy of need, kissing her thoughtless. As he reaches to unclip her bra, she mewls wantonly and exposes the length on her throat to him and he takes it eagerly – worshipping it with his tongue and lips - all the way to where it meets her breasts.

"Booth… please… I can't… you're gonna… I don't want your head to explode."

He smiles, delighted that he can reduce the world renowned wordsmith to blubbering hyperbole as his tongue flicks out to circle and whet her areola. Then, blowing a teasing breath out over his new favourite part of her, he whispers over gravely need, "Just relax, baby, the only head that'll be exploding tonight is yours."

Brennan's head pops up at his cocky response but promptly drops in pleasure as he latches onto her exposed nipple and bites with just enough pressure to have her writhing with desire and cursing over a sharp intake of breath, "Fuck! Booth! Ah!"

He sooths it with a series of licks and sucks, one hand massaging her other breast whilst the other slips under the band of her panties, urging the scant lace garment down her legs and off.

Taking his time, Booth's mouth sinfully trails a lazy course down over her navel to the curls that grace the tops of her legs and Brennan's skin goose bumps when she feels his hot breath at her core. Gently lifting her knees and urging her legs apart, Booth buries his nose indulgently in her curls, breathes in her scent and sighs with a smile, "Jesus, Bones, I can't tell you how long I've wanted to taste you."

Hooking his arms under her thighs, he tugs her centre towards his lips and draws the full length of her yoni with his tongue, dotting the "i" with a lingering, lapping kiss to her clitoris. Just about crawling out of her skin, Brennan hums and her eyes fall back into her head with decadent abandon.

Licking and kissing and sucking her hot centre to a cliff-surfing crescendo, Booth pushes two fingers into her yoni and curls them upward sending her soaring into an all-body orgasm, crashing the demure scientist into a tumbling, disorienting fit of raging bliss.

Fighting to tame her breathing, Brennan shakes her head, her mind-to-mouth filter fails as she spouts off a series of unintelligible expressions, "Oh! Oh, God, Booth! I've never… Oh, God… come here… please."

He grins up at her flushed and sated face, wiping her juices off his mouth along her belly and meeting her face-on with a sweet, smug kiss before collapsing exhaustedly beside her, "I make you believe in God, Bones?"

Brennan laughs uninhibitedly… freshly primal. She laughs in a way that lights her ice blue eyes like the sun kissed ocean after a violent, raging storm. Clouting him playfully she breathes, "You know that's never gonna happen."

An eyebrow perks playfully above his right eye, "But you called me _God_ , Bones."

She giggles then smiles contentedly, rubbing an absent hand over his abs. After a good ten minutes of enjoying the aftermaths of a world-classed orgasm, Brennan lifts herself up onto an elbow and sighs, "I should get your medication ready. You must be exhausted Booth. Booth?" she shakes his silent form, "Booth. I'm sorry but you need to wake up. I don't want you to…"

The words die on her lips and her heart grips with terror as his body begins to shake violently and uncontrollably.

 **Oh dear… what's happening to Booth!?**

 **If you'd like me to put fingers to keyboard then please let me know.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I wish it could be easier for these two but what would a story be without a little angst?**

 **Hope you enjoy…**

Head resting tiredly over their clasped hands, Brennan looks up when she feels Booth stirring beneath her. Groaning, he looks around the hospital room, brows furrowed in question, "Bones… what happened?"

Breathing a sigh of relief that he's awake and not comatose, she murmurs, "You had a seizure Booth." She drops her eyes and shakes her head with sincerity, "I'm _so_ sorry."

He reaches to cup her face, rubbing a soothing finger across her cheek, "Hey, hey, hey, it's not your fault Bones."

Tears breach and roll down her face haphazardly as she shakes her head in disagreement, "It is, Booth, we should have never gone there. We…" she hesitates, "We can't do that again."

Booth sits up and talks with urgency, "Nah-Ah, Bones, you can't take that back."

Tears still falling, her eyebrows draw together in a miserable pout and her head cocks a little to the left, "Booth, you've just had major brain surgery and you need to heal. Do you understand the setbacks of a seizure? You're fine now but what if it happens again? You might not be so lucky."

His frustration rising, there's an edge to his voice when he speaks again, "Bones, I'm not going to just forget it happened OK? And, seriously, can you honestly tell me that you can?"

She closes her eyes, lost for words.

"Temperance… I love you… OK? I can't go back to how we were… Not after being with you like that… I can't."

She remains silent for a moment, taking in the impact of his declaration. "Booth…" she shakes her head again, "I don't know. I think you need time to heal. Time for you to realise what's real and… what's not real."

At that, Booth bristles, his temper exponentially shorter since the surgery, "Bull shit! You think this isn't real?" He stabs a finger at his sternum, "You think these feelings I have for you are just some… some response to a fucking dream? Were you even there Temperance when we were… God, I've never…"

"Booth, calm down."

"No! I _know_ you love me Bones! I read your poem and you're wrong!"

"You went through my belongings?"

"Yeah, I did and it's just as well because this _isn't_ just a symptom that's gonna fade OK?"

"OK, OK, just calm down. We can talk about it…"

"Later? No… no way! I'm not just gonna sit calmly by while you logic your way out of _Us_ Bones. This isn't about me and my coma dream, OK? This is about _you_ and _your_ fear of getting hurt."

Brennan's eyes went round with offence, "Are you serious? I've done everything within my power to make sure that you're cared for and looked after, I've…" She swipes at her tears, "I've _personally_ taken care of you despite the fact that it kills me inside every single time you think I'm Bren and make moves on me when I know, Booth, I know..."

Booth scoffs and looks at her with a disdain in his eyes that she's never seen directed at her, stabbing the air in her direction, he finishes with a growl, "You know _nothing_ Temperance, _nothing_!"

Just as Nurse Charlotte enters the room after hearing their raised voices, Booth falls back to the bed with a jerk. His eyes roll back into his head and his body tightens with stiff, rigid spasms.

Shuffling quickly to his side, Nurse Charlotte takes one look in Brennan's direction and orders her out, "Get out now before I have to call security!"

Brennan grabs her handbag and flees, bumping unceremoniously into her best friend on the way out. Angela takes in the red eyes and shaking form of her friend, "Brennan, what's wrong? What happened?"

In an uncharacteristic display of emotions, the scientist collapses into Angela's arms, body wracking with silent tears. Angela discretely leads her down the corridor to the patient family room and sits her down gently, kneeling in front of her, offering her a tissue, "Brennan, tell me what happened."

Calming herself enough to talk, albeit around hiccupping tears, Brennan explains, "He had another seizure, Ang."

Rubbing a soothing hand over her friend's thigh, the artist sighs, "Aw sweetie. Do they know why?"

Temperance breaks down with the question, dropping her head into her hands, "Because I'm… I… God, it's all my fault Angela."

"Aw, honey, no, it's not your fault. It's not your fault at all."

Brennan reaches for another handful of tissues and blows her nose until it's dry, "Ang, can you… can you go check on him please? They won't let me back in there. I need to know he's OK."

Angela nods, "Of course. I'll be right back sweetie, just hold tight."

After a quick hug, Angela makes her way back down the hallway. Stopping by the nurse's station to ask for Booth's room number, she makes her way silently into his room to find him sitting against the raised head of his hospital bed staring despondently at the flowers on his side table while a short stocky nurse holds a finger over his wrist pulse.

"Hey big guy." She whispers with a sympathetic smile.

His eyes lifts at the sound of her voice and she sighs at the hollow look there, "How ya feeling?"

Booth looks down and fiddles with the hem of his blanket, "Like I've been run over by a semi."

Angela perches herself easily on his bed facing him and reaches out to hold his hand. "Do they know what's going on?"

The nurse scribes notes into his chart before giving Angela a once over, "He's just had major brain surgery, that's what's going on. Do _not_ upset him or I'll be calling security." With that, the no nonsense nurse charged out leaving a speechless Angela trying to work out what she'd just walked in on.

He gives a slight shake of his head and exhales loudly, "Ah, don't mind her. I've just gotta calm down a bit I guess. I think I've been pushing myself a bit too much. How are you doin' Ang?"

She smiles sweetly, patting his hand with affection, "A damn sight better than you, G Man. We're all worried about you, you know… especially Brennan."

He exhales, "Yeah. God, I just… I just wish that she'd…" he sighs and shakes his head with frustration, finishing on an irritated whisper, "I don't know... Fuck!"

"Give her time Booth. It's been such an emotional rollercoaster with the surgery and then having to explain to Sweets, of _all_ people, that she'd read such a personal story aloud. She's put her heart on the line, sweetie… that's not an easy feet for Bren."

"And you think it's easy for me?"

She taps his hand affectionately, "No, of course not." She sighs, taking in his completely miserable state and squeezes his hand, "Just… just take this time to relax, Booth, OK? Don't overwork that brain of yours – it's just endured a complete overhaul. Everything will fall into place at the proper time. Trust me, sweetie, she's not going anywhere…" eyebrow raised with amusement, she gives him a once over, "and neither are you by the looks of things."

He chuckles tiredly, "Yeah, thanks for the reminder."

She smiles with a flirty glint, "That's what friends are for."

Booth lifts a leaden hand to run through his hair, "If you see her… can you… can you tell her I'm sorry? I said some things. Jesus, Ang, I just. I wish we weren't both so God damn stubborn."

She laughs at the truth of his statement, "You're tellin' me! I just want to lock you both in the storage closet and throw away the key. But that's what makes you _Booth and Brennan_ and anything worth fighting for takes effort, right? You'll get there, sweetie. Just don't think too seriously about it all. Let that huge brain muscle of yours heal first, OK?"

He nods in agreement and an honest smile graces his lips, "Thanks Ang. You're a good friend."

Angela stands and reaches in to give him a reassuring squeeze, "My pleasure, Booth. I'll pass your message on. She's pretty upset at the moment. She thinks that it's her fault you're back in hospital."

He laughs at the absurdity, "Trust me, she's got that all wrong. Tell her I… I don't regret a thing and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat."

Curiosity well and truly piqued at the vagueness of his message, Angela bites her inquisitive tongue and tells him to rest up before leaving the room. Her spidey senses are tingling and she's determined to get the full picture… with Booth in hospital, Angela decides she has the perfect opportunity for a get-your-BFF-drunk- spill-all-sesh and she's going to drag Brennan to it kicking and screaming if she has to.

 **Hopefully Angela can talk some sense into her but, you know Brennan - she's a stubborn one!**

 **I know it's all quite OOC and dramatic but please review and let me know if you want more!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Not as much drunkenness as I thought but it was a girl talk nonetheless…**

 **Please give me ideas on where to go from here... I'm kinda grasping for ideas!**

"Oh, God, you should have seen his face Brennan! I couldn't have timed it better!" Angela laughs heartily with the random memory but slowly falters at the non-response. Frustrated with the efforts of drawing out her friend, Angela takes another sip of her wine and shakes her head. It's so obvious that Brennan is preoccupied and on a completely different wavelength. Waving her hand exaggeratedly in front of the scientist's eyes she sings, "Earth to Brennan!"

Brennan's eyes snapped up at the mention of her name.

"Honey, what's wrong? You've been quiet all night."

Staring into her glass of red, Brennan sighed. The effects of the wine lowering her defences, "We kissed."

Angela propped herself up on her bed – her eyes widening at the juicy bit of info, "You kissed Booth?"

Brennan gulped the rest of her wine and nodded, "well, he kissed me… and a… God, Ang, it was amazing… I've never felt so… _moved_ … in a sexual situation."

Angela squeezed her friends hand, "Really?! You guys finally jumped bones?" the artist sighs dramatically and flops back onto the bed, "Oh… Thank God!"

"No, Ang. We didn't and we shouldn't."

"On what planet?"

"Ang, he's got everything confused. He thinks he's in love with me but that will fade just like every other symptom of his surgery."

"Sweetie, that's where you're wrong, Booth has always loved you."

"No, he's confused Angela. He's confused me with his coma dream protagonist."

Angela takes the empty glass from her friend's grasp and places it safely on the side table, "Brennan, honestly, you're too stubborn for your own damn good. Booth loves you. Trust me. I know these things… I have a sixth sense."

Brennan scoffs, "humans only possess five senses, Angela."

"No, Brennan, you're wrong. You need to trust Booth."

Brennan rolls off the bed, frustrated at the fact that she'd let herself get so drunk and reaches for her glass to take it into the kitchen, "Just leave it Ang."

"No, Brennan! You're my best friend and it's my job to intervene… you're sabotaging the perfect relationship that you and Booth could have together!"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort Angela! I'm being the only rational one out of all of us! I'm putting aside _my_ feelings and looking at the situation with rational, logical thought… something that you could take hint from!"

Trying hard to keep level headed Angela forges forward, "Brennan, stop! You spout all this logical bull shit but what does your heart tell you?"

Temperance rolls her eyes in mockery, "My heart is an organ that pumps blood around my circulatory system, Angela… it holds no relevance in this conversation!"

Angela throws her arms up in surrender, "Ugh! No wonder Booth started seizing! You're so God-damn frustrating, Brennan! You're never going to be happy if you keep cleaving to this ultra-rational, robotic, self-fucking-martyr thing you've got going here! Let yourself _feel_ for God's sake! What have you got to lose?"

Temperance's face crumples, "Everything… I've got everything to lose."

Angela shakes her head with strident disagreement, "No, Brennan, all you have to lose is your _selfish_ pride. Is Booth's true love really worth surrendering over that?" Having reached her limit of self-control, Angela leaves the bedroom, slamming the door on the way.

Brennan shakes her head, burying her head under the pillows and cries.

…

Sunlight claws unsympathetically at her eyes, she sniffs and scruffs her nose in defiance. Breaking through the sleep seal of her tired eyes, Brennan opens them against the light and is greeted with the wide open stare of her best friend, "I'm so sorry Brennan. I didn't mean what I said last night."

Brennan takes a moment for her mind to surface and grow lucid, covering her mouth to stem the morning breath she calms, "It's OK Ang. I know it's a frustrating circumstance."

Angela cups her friend's face tenderly and rubs a soothing thumb over her cheek, "It is… but it's not your fault, sweetie."

Brennan's eyes water, "I'm just… I'm just so emotionally exhausted Ang. It's all so above me at the moment."

Swiping her tears with her thumb, Angela whispers, "I know sweetie… It's OK. Just rest, honey. I'm here."

Folding the scientist into her arms, Angela rubs a soothing hand over her back, lulling her back into sleep.

…

Hours later, Brennan awakes to the smell of coffee, bacon and eggs. Wandering out to the kitchen of Angela's apartment, Brennan smiles at the sight of her best friend singing and dancing along to the radio, "Morning Ang."

The artist swings around happily, "Hey sweetie! I know you don't like bacon but I've got eggs, toast and coffee for when you're ready. There's even some fruit salad in the fridge if you feel like it."

Brennan smiles, genuinely grateful for her best friend, "Thanks Ang, I must admit, I'm quite hungry."

Sitting down together at the table, Angela tries again to apologise, "I know I upset you last night, Bren. Honestly, sweetie, I'm sorry. I just don't want you to sabotage one of the best things that's ever happened to you."

Crunching on a piece of toast, Brennan talks around a mouthful, "What makes you think he's always felt this way about me Ang? I am a very observant person and I've never picked up on it until now. Prior to the coma Booth was always annoyed with me, frustrated with me and just…" she shakes her head, "I don't know. He's different now and it's all been strictly since the coma dream."

Angela smiles slightly, "Are you sure that it isn't just that he's putting himself out there after having such a close brush with death? He's not holding back because he realises that life is short and that all those stupid reasons he had for drawing lines and keeping you at arm's length are now just that - _stupid_."

Brennan's heart stutters with the thought that Angela is possibly right.

"Look, sweetie, there's no need to be making a decision right now. Booth's obviously not going anywhere and neither are you… and he's certainly in no position to be making advances."

"Well… I was actually considering giving him some space. There's this dig in Guatema…"

"Stop right there Brennan. I will not let you run from this."

"Ang, I'm not running. I've been thinking a lot about it and there's a verse that says, "If you love something set it free; if it comes back it's yours, if it doesn't it never was." I'm not normally one for sappy poetry but I believe there's some truth to that prose."

Angela scoffs, "Yeah, and there's another that says, "If you love something set it free, but don't be surprised if it comes back with herpes" God, Brennan, if you left Booth he'd be devastated."

"I wouldn't be leaving him, Ang, I'd be…"

"Bren, sweetie, this is one of those times where you just have to trust that I'm right and you're wrong, OK? Seriously wrong."

Brennan sighs and shakes her head, "I don't think I could anyway… it was Sweets who suggested it."

"Mmm… Sweets. I think I'd better have a chat to our weasely, meddling shrink." Angela does a double take on her best friend then scoffs emphatically, "He's totally playing with you guys Brennan! His _number one_ priority is the FBI and he knows that if you and Booth hook up it will spell trouble for the FBI's _no_ _fraternisation_ rule. Trust me… he reeks with hidden agenda."

Brennan nods tiredly into her coffee. Angela can't remember a time she'd seen her friend look so lost. Clasping her hand comfortingly her voice softens, "Listen, I'm going to make some suggestions here, Bren and I'm certain that they're for the best, OK? Take Booth home, _care_ for him, be his friend, look after him and just go with the flow. Don't stress over anything, don't question anything. Obviously no jumping bones until he's cleared but just let the relationship unfold naturally and be honest with him, Sweetie… don't go hiding behind your fears OK? There's no need to name it or label it. Just let it happen."

Brennan's lips turn up with affection, "That's very vague advice, Ang."

Angela smiles and drags the scientist out of the chair, "I know. But it's good advice, you'll see. Now, let's go pretty those bitten-to-the-bone nails of yours before we have to go save your lover boy from that crazy matron nurse of his."

 **I'm looking forward to writing the next chapter.**

 **Not quite sure if I should do the whole Angela/ Brennan-pedi/ mani girlfriend thing but I've just discovered Jamberry so I may just have some fun with that!**

 **PM me if you want to know more about the awesomeness that is Jamberry!**

 **Please review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**So, I was watching Teen Wolf the other day and I thought it was amusing that after the first season almost everyone seemed to have done away with their old cars and bought a Toyota and that the Nike brand was in almost every frame!**

 **Bones is as guilty of product placement as the best of them from stringer cheese to** ** **Windows phones through to** Toyota Prius' "Intelligent Parking Assist" (Seriously, wasn't that just so cheesy? I was half expecting Emily to wink at the camera!) so I'm just going to follow suit with Jamberry Nail Wraps *wink wink* Awesome stuff! PM me if you want info or go to... fingerblingers . jamberry . com (without the spaces)  
**

 **Also, a HUGE thank you to all your lovely reviews. It honestly makes my day to read them!**

 **Anyway… BFF bonding and B &B beautifulness (yep, I know that's not a word) below! Please let me know what you think… **

Switching the foot spa's on, Angela leans back into her sofa with a happy sigh, "God, this is something I could totally get used to. Isn't this relaxing?"

Brennan munches on her soy crisps, "It is. I might purchase one of these machines for Booth. I imagine the combination of heat and vibration will aid in circulation and further prevent thrombosis."

Angela chuckles and shakes her head in amusement, "Oh, Bren, you've got it so bad sweetie."

Brennan's brow furrows cutely, "Got _what_ bad exactly?"

The artist pinches a crisp from Brennan's over-sized packet, "The _luurve_ bug, baby!"

Brennan opens her mouth to object but nothing comes out straight away. She just stares, speechless at her BFF. "Wha… I don't believe I've heard of such thing as a _love bug_."

"Oh, it's real sweetie! Real serious too." Angela's eyes flare with humor.

The scientist ponders with furrowed brows, "I think you're mocking me."

Angela grabs a little album with a _Jamberry_ logo on the front and flicks through a selection of nail wraps, "Maybe I am, but you know I love you. Hey, so, what do you want on your fingers and toes." She pulls a set of wraps out that have little dancing skeletons on them, "I couldn't resist buying these and now that you're on holidays, I think they'd be soo adorable on you. But you choose."

Brennan takes the sheet of little disco bones and laughs, "Oh my goodness, Ang! Obviously they're completely anatomically incorrect but they're so cute! I'll go with them."

"Are you sure? There's over 300 designs and they last for two weeks so you've gotta be happy with your choice. I don't have them all though."

"No, I'm sure. They're perfect."

…

A chick flick, a tub of ice cream and a full set of bone-jammin' nails later, Brennan phones the hospital for the third time that day for an update on Booth only to be told that they are getting him ready for discharge.

She had, halfway through the movie, decided that she'd take Angela's advice, vague as it was and just care for him without questioning anything… stop trying to control everything and just let the relationship go where it went. She reasoned that they could have the serious talks later when he was out of the forest… or the woods… or whatever the colloquial phrase was.

Paying particular attention to avoid Ol' Nurse Cranky Pants, Brennan sneaks into Booths room just as he's slipping his shoes on. He looks up when he hears her enter and his face morphs from despondent and sad to surprised and smiling, "Bones, hey."

She smiles shyly before looking down at her toes, "Hi Booth."

When the silence drags, they both awkwardly talk at the same time, "Listen, Bones…"

"Booth, I'm…"

They laugh at their verbal inelegance before Brennan sighs and climbs onto the bed to sit beside him shoulder to shoulder, "Booth, I'm sorry…"

"Hey, no, I'm the one who should be sorry, OK? I was an ass. If you need to wait, Bones, to know that this is real and not some freaky-deaky side effect of the coma dream then I'll wait OK? I shouldn't have pressured you… hell, I've hid my feelings for this long, what's another few months… or, you know… however long you need."

"You drew that line, Booth, I thought you were giving me the hint that you weren't interested."

He laughs, kind of shocked with how she had it so wrong, "I drew that line because of me, Bones. Because I was too chicken-shit-scared to risk our friendship on a workplace romance."

"And now?"

He sighs and, needing the contact, reaches out to take her hand, rubbing a thumb sweetly over it, "Bones, I almost died last week."

Tears prick her eyes at the gravelly truth of his words but she manages to choke out a sincere whisper, "I know."

He shakes his head, "Every irrelevant, inconsequential triviality falls away when something like that happens and the… the things that _really_ matter… you know… they just… they become… unignorable."

She smiles and picks at him, "Unignorable is not a word."

"Yeah, well call me Shakespeare – I just invented a word."

Without warning, Booth starts laughing, running a finger over her freshly manicured nails, "Oh look! Little Bones!"

Brennan smiles and eyes him sideways, "Yes, Angela bought them, whilst childish, I thought they were… I don't know… cute. I thought you'd like them."

He laughs, "Aw, Bones, I love 'em! They're just so... you!"

They sit for a bit before she sighs and responds to his soft hand strokes with affectionate rubs of her own, "I… I don't like that you went through my Ipad…"

"Yeah, sorry about that. I blame the drugs. It was a good poem, but."

Silence grew for a moment or two before she hesitated then spoke, "It's true though."

"Bones, we aren't going to argue about the coma dream again are we? 'Cause that didn't turn out so well last time."

"No, we're not… I meant that _you_ were right… when you said that I… you know… that I… I love you."

Booth's face lit up like the fourth of July, "You do?"

She nudged him sideways, "You already knew that though."

He laughs a little and then smiles over a wonder-struck sigh, "Yeah, but… haha! You _really_ love me?"

Amused by the pink glow dusting her cheeks, he pulls her lips in for a chaste but lingering kiss, "Mmm… I think I might just be the luckiest man on the planet."

"Well, that's hardly quantifiable… and given that you're stuck in a hospital room, I think I'd have to disagree."

"Yeah, well not for long, baby. This guy's signed out and ready to head home to that amazingly comfortable bed you got me."

They stood and Brennan grabbed his belongings, helping him out of the hospital, "I also bought us these special foot spa devices. It will be good for your circulation."

And without hesitation, Brennan reaches to wrap her arm around his torso... not to help him walk easier, but just because she _feels_ like it… it seems Angela's advice is not too hard to follow after all.

 **Aw, don't we just love B &B? Google "Jamberry Dem Bones" to see a pic of Brennan's nails (minus the cobwebs)… I think they are just gorgeous :)**

 **Please review if you're still interested in this fic. I think I might wrap it up soon depending on your thoughts. Originally I was going to have Brennan go to Guatemala in chapter 10 but I just don't know if I could honestly do that to them. I'm still not sure if I should have her go to Guatemala at all... thoughts, please!?  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**So, it's pretty unanimous, you're all happy for me to continue with non-cannon fluffy fluff.**

 **You ask... I deliver :D**

 **Thanks heaps for the replies, friends… every review is like a kiss to my parched soul :D**

 **Now please enjoy...**

The next morning, Booth's eyes open to the welcome picture of his Bones' stare - intently set on the minute details of his face - an instant, smile-inducing treat that has him sending up a grateful prayer of thanks to his dear God in heaven. Though she'd kill him for his possessive thoughts, in his mind – she is, most definitely _his_ and, faced with the vision of beauty in front of him, he wouldn't have it any other way.

He reaches out with a silent, drowsy tenderness and cups her face, testing his sleep heavy, gravelly voice out with just a bit more oomph than a whisper, "Morning sweetheart…" He sighs contentedly and strokes her face with affection, "God, this is something I could get used to."

Brennan smiles and, in rare form, it reaches her deep, stormy eyes in a way that has Booth pinching himself… _surely this is a dream angel tucked reverently beside me in bed!_

"Are you going to keep coming up with pet names for me now that we have an out-in-the-open requited affection for one another?"

He smiles and dips in to collect an innocent yet leisurely kiss, "Hmmm… have you really got a problem with that _honey-bum_?"

She gives a sexy, throaty chuckle, "My heart is _not_ sweet and my buttocks are most _definitely_ not honey-like in any way, shape, smell or form."

He rolls over her to nibble playfully along her jawline and sucks at the luscious skin behind her ear, "C'mon, but you love it, c'mon, tell me you love it."

She shrieks and goose bumps at the tickling sensation he's eliciting with his hungry tongue, "No! Ah! No, I don't love it!" She manages to push him off gently and then coos with a wink to emphasize the last word of her sentence, "But I might just get used to it… _pumpkin_."

He rolls onto his back and sighs, glimpsing happily at her out the side of his eyes, "Bones… I know you're probably not into gushiness and lovey-dovey stuff but I want to get something clear from the get go, OK?"

At the seriousness of his voice, Brennan's broad smile tames and she lifts herself up on an elbow to give him her 100% attention, "OK."

Tangling his fingers into her bed-head hair, he looks deeply into her ice blue eyes, "I love you, OK? I don't want to smother you and… and please tell me if you're feeling smothered but I just… I'm jumping all-in Temperance. I want to show you that this is real… and I'm going to make you believe it, OK?"

She smiles affectionately and nods, relieved that he wasn't going to set up some emotional type boundary or an ill-conceived line, "OK."

He tugs her in for a long, love-filled kiss before he lets go and pulls back with a charm laden grin, "So what have we got on the cards for today?"

She grins conspiratorially, "I have a surprise."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep! But you must promise me that you won't overwork yourself like you did with the Anacostia Riverwalk."

"OK, OK, I promise. Does your plan involve the outdoors and sun?"

She smiles proudly, "Yes! Fun, sun and son!"

He looks at her with an amused, furrowed brow, "According to a sexy, scientist squint I'm in love with, there's only one sun in our universe."

She feigns shock, "I don't know which sexy, scientist squint you're referring to but there, most certainly are many more sons in the universe but only one as special as this one." She winks at his confused look, "C'mon _sweet cheeks_ , let's get you medicated, fed, dressed and ready to enjoy the day."

…

Of course Booth's smile breaches uncharted territory when he catches sight of his floppy haired, fresh faced Parker running towards him in the local park, and he greets his Mini-Me with a strong, tight hug, sending Brennan a deep, appreciation-heavy smile over-top of his son's blonde curls. Due to Parker being out of town, it's the first time Booth has seen his son since the operation and he's not surprised at all by the strong, emotional lump in his throat and the tingly, watery sensation in his eyes.

"Hey, Bud, how are you doin'!?"

"I'm good Dad. I had the best holiday. How's your head? Mum said you had a disease in your brain that they had to cut out… that's heaps cool ya know!"

Booth smiled at his little charge, "Yeah and you know what's even cooler? Instead of stitching my head up with a needle and thread… they _stapled_ it!"

"Ew, gross! You've gotta show me and take a picture of it so I can show Frankie. He loves that sort of stuff, he's a real zombie kid… he loves all things about zombies!"

Brennan's heart swells watching the interaction between the two… it's as if they were never separated – rambling on like a couple of best friends about school, sports, a subject called Minecraft and a spirited fellow called Mario and his friend Luigi who both like to ride in carts.

Her chest squeezes with the pre-brain-tumour desire of sharing a little, dependent soul with Booth… he's such a good dad… the absolute best, and Brennan finds herself defying her lifelong self-commitments by wanting to give him the pleasure of a child - full-time… a child that won't have to be packed up and sent off to another woman every week; to a woman who would willingly deprive her child of a perfect Dad. Of course, there's no such thing as a perfect father… but, watching Booth play with his son, Brennan finds herself wondering against all statistical probability, over an emotional protuberance in her esophagus, If Booth may very well be the closest human equivalent to the perfect dad.

Given her partner's health limitations, Brennan discerningly asks Parker to teach her the basics of football. He excitedly agrees and takes his coach role very seriously – educating her with the ins and outs of the game and the trade secrets of success. Booth observes from the sidelines, cheering happily for his two favorite people, wondering without success if he could pinpoint a time in his life that he'd ever been happier.

His face smiles with no conscious effort, _Nope, not a chance, buddy!_ Yet is pulled up by his self-flagellating spirit… _…And, yet I've gotta wonder though, with all this happiness, if the bottom is gotta fall out some time soon!_

After a good couple of hours playing in the afternoon sun, Brennan, observing the weariness written across Booth's face, decides to call it a day. She packs the Booth boys and their picnic remains into the truck and takes them back to the apartment.

Sitting Booth down into his recliner, she fills up one of the foot spas she had bought the day before, rolls up his trousers and dunks his feet into the water, turning on the warm bubbles. She sets up a similar arrangement for an excited Parker, switches on Netflix and, at the recommendation of a google search on "what movies are popular for tweenagers", Brennan selects the latest Spongebob film. As she heads toward the kitchen to start on dinner, Booth snags her hand and tugs her so that she drops over top of him, landing in a lying scrawl across his lap. Moving in so that their foreheads are touching, he speaks sincerely, "Thank you for this afternoon, Bones, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

She smiles and replies with a hand to his stubbly cheek, "You don't need to Booth… I can see it in your eyes… as much as I don't believe in that…"

He smiles a smile full of affection before pulling her into a deep, loving kiss, swallowing her squint-speak.

After a solid minute, the youngest of the three groans with disgust, "Ew, gross guys! That's just gross!"

Brennan and Booth dissolve into a fit of silent, thick-throated giggles before Parker makes another childishly honest judgement, "I think mum will be happy though when I tell her that you guys are makin' out… she says you're meant for each other or some stupid, girly thing…" He sighs with feigned wisdom, "You know what girls are like, Jeez. Anyway, whatever… _gross_ … keep it in the bedroom guys."

The adults laugh at the serious tone and old-wise-words of the _almost_ tweenager. After a tight, affectionate squeeze from Booth, Brennan stands and continues her way to the kitchen… there's a mean batch of macaroni and cheese that needs to be made and her name is written all over it!

…

After dinner, baths and stories, Brennan tucks a sleepy Parker into bed and kisses his tussled crown of blonde hair with natural affection before going to turn of the light. The young, spritely child had requested an exclusive one-on-one read-a-thon with his favorite scientist in order for his Dad to relax in the living room to watch the latest Flyers game.

"Hey Bones?"

His worn-out boyish voice reaches her before she shuts the door and she replies with curiosity, "Yes Parker?"

The boy smiles through the sleepy, thin slits of his tired eyes, "I'm glad that you're here to love Daddy. He really deserves it ya know."

She smiled, surprised to find herself struggling for voice over the tingling throb in her throat, "Me too, sweetie. He certainly does. Sweet dreams Parker."

She surprises herself with how easy the affectionate moniker rolled off her tongue before retreating to the living room only to find her soon-to-be lover snoring adorable in his recliner; manly Jamberry wraps of the Flyers team molded loyally over his freshly pedicured toes.

Not wanting to disturb him, Brennan sits in the recliner beside him, opens the foot rest and curls up sideways in a position that takes easy visual advantage of his undeniably masculine existence. She knows his strength… she has felt it gripped around her body as a visceral response in innumerable situations. Yet, sitting meditatively, facing him, and contemplating the almost nearly extinct status of his existence, Brennan can't do anything but stare… silently, perhaps subconsciously memorizing every dip and crease of the life-worn-life-lived terrain of his face and the tired, almost gaunt slump of his posture. Although well versed and researched in craniotomies, she marvels at how much Booth had been sleeping since his surgery. It seemed that he had reverted entirely back to the sleep requirements of an infant.

Completely exhausted herself, after the emotional week that it had been, Brennan's eyes dip and fasten and her consciousness sleeps solidly for three hours until her alarm. Though the alarm does not awaken her, she's shaken conscious by a short statured silhouette in the darkened night, "Hey Bones! Yo! Your pocket's bleeping and I'm trying to sleep!"

She comes to with a start and grabs on to Parker for a quick moment before she calms… peripheral awareness bleeding outward to take in the full scene of the situation, "Parker! Honey, what's wrong?"

He laughs amusedly at her sleep-groggy brain, "Turn your alarm off Bones! Why have you got that thing on in the middle of the night anyway!?"

She finally comes to and shakes her head to awaken herself further, "Your dad is required to take his medication on a four to six hourly basis, otherwise, it could spell extreme pain and discomfiture."

"OK, well let's wake him." Parker slaps his neat little hand across his dad's stubbly cheek, "Hey, dad! Bones needs to give you some medicine! Wake up!"

Booth stirs and flinches at the face taps and then smiles easily at the voice of his son. Swiping blindly and lightly at his son's affront, Booth grumbles, "OK, OK, back-off there little buddy!"

Now officially wide awake, Brennan, having retrieved his drug-log and medical supplies from his bedroom side-table, proceeds to issue him with his required pain medication and scribes the appropriate notes into his medication log.

Despite his body-deep exhaustion, Booth takes the time to tenderly tuck his son into bed whilst Brennan looks on dotingly as he reads a brief story and says his in-depth prayers… taking the time to personally express sincere gratification for Temperance's place in the Booth boy's family.

Tucking Booth's weary frame into the crisp, smooth bed sheets, Brennan can't help but lean in for a heartfelt, leisurely kiss. After a good flotilla of steamboats, she pulls back slightly and smiles openly in the dim glow of the hallway light, offering a series of playful pecks to his hungry lips. She hesitates, stalling briefly over her natural instinct to speak and then consciously corrects her mistake, mumbling softly with a vulnerable, shy smile, "I love you Booth."

His voice catches, "God, Bones, that's so amazing to hear… It's like a sweet blessing from heaven."

She pulls back slightly… not to break contact but to gauge his reactions, "It's not a blessing, Booth… it's just _me_ … talking and speaking words… and there's no such thing as heaven… in a literal sense… but I understand if you need to cleave to your faith in order to explain these particular circumstances that are not so easily explained in layman's terms... I myself have found this week to be…" she sighs, " _extremely_ emotional…" she stalls for a moment, scruffing an uneasy hand across her nose, "I know I don't often say the right thing, Booth… especially in emotional circumstances… but I feel the urge to express to you… it's been… quite difficult." She pulls herself together and then trods on with a teary smile, "And, I love you."

Cupping her cheek and rubbing her face tenderly Booth gives her a full-faced smile, eyes and all, "Me too sweetheart… I love you Temperance… anatomically incorrect fingernail bones and all."

 **Please bless me with your amazingly supportive reviews… they spur me on to make daily installments.**

 **Thank you lovelies!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry it's been so long! Here's an extra long one for your patience.**

 **Seriously guys, thank you so much for your encouraging reviews - they really are the only reason I keep writing and a huge "t** **hank you" to GalaxieGurl for keeping me updated on the non-Australian colloquial terms and for your amazing continued support with this story!**

 **I am from Australia and I noticed tonight that there may be slight differences in spelling but I've decided to stick with the Aussie spelling for continuity.**

 **Now, even though I have nothing against this chapter's visitor, it seems from your comments that some of you do… so, without giving the guts of the chapter away, I really hope you enjoy it ;)**

It had been a week since Parker's visit, Booth's staples were removed yesterday without complication and he and Brennan are setting up the living room for a movie marathon, beginning with Star Wars, Episode I - The Phantom Menace. She had insisted they commence with episode one rather than where the Saga originally began with Episode IV in 1977.

"It makes logical sense, Booth, and it's easier to follow if you start from the beginning. Moreover, I've studied the characters and researched the plot on Wikipedia and I'd rather see it in cannon. "

"Of course you have." He mumbles, though easily agreeing, knowing that he didn't have a hope in hell arguing against her squinty logic. Besides, he just wants to snuggle up and watch it with her and maybe make out a little.

She gets them settled with their snacks and cushions and Booth's heart squeezes with happiness when she cuddles into him, pulling his arm around her shoulders. He hits play and watches her out of the corner of his eye, nervously gauging her reaction to the opening scene, waiting for her to spout some sciency crap about the "force" and how it is as unsubstantiated and just as ludicrous a concept as his "gut" but she sits there quietly taking it in.

On screen, little Anakin looks up from his perch on the workshop bench and greets Padme, "Are you and angel?"

Brennan laughs around a mouthful of popcorn, "He looks like Parker. Haha!"

Booth smiles, "Yeah, I guess he does."

Taking a loud, un-Brennan-like sip of her of her soda she muses audibly, "I find it amusing that he is only nine and she is 14…. It's like Parker having a crush on and eventually marrying a high school girl…. He's so delightful though… It's difficult to imagine that he eventually sires the main protagonist of the Star Wars Saga and becomes the Arch nemesis, Darth Vader." She gestures her soda cup at the new 75" ultra high definition flat screen that she'd set up in his lounge room, "In fact, _these_ are classic, predictable, time-proven plot twists that all wily authors employ to create and maintain interest…. the… _protagonist_ , Luke Skywalker, not knowing his enemy is actually his _father_ exhibits signs of attraction to a woman whom he doesn't find out until later is actually his twin _sister_ …"

"Bones! Just watch the god-damn movie would ya?"

Her face swings to his with an offended look written across it, "I am."

He scoffs a little, "Yeah, last time I checked, you watch movies with your _eyes_ , not your mouth."

An impish glint sparked in her eyes as she looked at him through her lashes, "I can _so_ watch a movie with my mouth."

"Oh, yeah?"

Leaning up to him she purrs, "Yes, let me demonstrate…"

Just as her lips reach to cover his, a loud knock sounds at the door. Grumbling endearingly, she pulls away slightly, "I'll be back."

Booth grins, pulling her back in for a series of affectionate nibbles, "I'll be waiting."

…

Tugging the door open impatiently, her face drops further as she takes in the wiry shrink standing tall outside Booth's apartment, "Sweets."

When she says nothing more, the psychologist smiles uneasily, "Dr Brennan."

"Yes. That's me."

He shakes his head with a smile, amused by her social awkwardness, "Um… may I come in?"

Glancing back at Booth briefly, Brennan sighs and wordlessly opens the door further to let him in.

Taking in the spread of snacks, pillows, blankets and drinks, he immediately recognises the paused movie on the massive television screen and gushes, "Oh! Star Wars! I love Star Wars!" flopping comfortably into the recliner, he reaches for the Milk Duds and toes off his shoes, "This is awesome!"

Booth stares blankly at the enthused visitor and counts to ten inside his head in order to calm the irritated tick above the right side of his lip.

When the screen stays paused, Sweets eventually looks around to notice the dark stares directed at him and he coughs uneasily under the scrutiny, "So, heya Agent Booth. How are you feeling?"

Booth speaks in a measured tone, "Just peachy, Sweets. I'll be back in the saddle in no time."

Speaking softly in a subconscious bid to omit their guest, Brennan's lip tips up with an admiring smile, "I didn't know you were into equestrianism, Booth. I often rode as a young child. Perhaps we could arrange to do some horse riding… once you're cleared of course."

Booth chuckles with affection for his clueless partner and speaks at the same hushed volume as she had, "It's an _idiom_ , Bones, but I'd love to try horse riding someday. Maybe give it a few months for this old Humpty Dumpty to heal first, huh?"

She laughs, "Haha, yes, _Humpty Dumpty_ , haha, that's a good one! Because they _cracked_ your head open! Well, more accurately they sliced it, drilled and sawed it open but… hmm very amusing."

He winces with her description and rubs a tentative hand over his healing scar and the stubbly re-growth of hair, "Yeah, thanks, Bones… thanks for the visual."

Sweets clears his throat, annoyed with, once again, being on the outside looking in with this pair, "Um, guys?"

Having all but forgotten their extra company, and lost in their own little conversation, the partners' eyes spring to Sweets.

"This is a rather cosy set up you've got here. Where's Dr Brennan's camp?"

Brennan looks to Booth in confusion, "What does he mean camp? He knows I'm not camping."

"I mean your bedding Dr Brennan. You are sleeping here aren't you?"

She pulls back with affront, "Of course. Booth needs to be medicated on a rotating 4 – 6 hourly roster. It would be inefficient of me to travel back and forth to my apartment so frequently - wasting time, gas and unnecessarily increasing my carbon footprint. If you _must_ know, and frankly it's none of your business, I set up my bedding in Parker's room."

It wasn't a complete lie. She _had_ set up her bedding in Parker's room… even if she hasn't slept in it yet.

"Oh, that's… that's good. Sooo… I heard that Parker came to visit and stayed the night over the…"

Booth cuts in, "OK, back up the shrink tank buddy. I know you're sniffing around for dirt but you're not gonna find any now back off."

Sweets holds his hands up in surrender, "Hey, now, I was just seeing how the visit went is all."

"Yeah, sure you were." Booth grumbles.

Brennan smiles with the memory, "It was a lovely visit. Parker is a very charming young man."

Booth grins proudly with the compliment until he hears Sweets cogitating, "That's… interesting..."

"It's not _interesting_ , Sweets, it's a _fact_ …" he grins at his partner before gloating, "The Booth boys _are_ charming… 'cept maybe for Jared… he's just smarmy."

Brennan interrupts, "Well, I found him _quite_ charming…"

Booth looks injured, "Wha?! He made you think I was a _loser_ , Bones! How can you think..."

"Precisely… he made me question my solid truths… ergo, according to the true meaning of the word - _charming_ … _and_ smarmy, yes, but charming nonetheless. At least you and Parker are charming with good natures and no hidden schemes, as Jared had with me. I believe, as is the colloquial phrase, he just wanted to climb into my panties."

Suitably mollified and positively squint-charmed, Booth laughs, "Yeah, though I think when you shoved him off his bar stool in front of an audience of men, you kinda ruined your chances there, Bones."

She snorts, drawling with rare sarcasm, "Yeah and I'm _completely_ devastated."

Booth and Brennan smile at each other for a few moments, heads only inches apart, before once again, remembering their voyeur who just so happens to be observing them with a smug smirk plastered across his scrutinising face. It seems it's going to be harder than they thought to hide their newly confessed affections for one another.

Booth coughs unnecessarily, "So, what's up Sweets? Did ya get lonely playing Mario Kart all by yourself? You miss annoying us?"

Sweets smiled knowingly, "I just wanted to see how you were going Agent Booth." He gives a surprised laugh as he takes in the Jamberry Flyers-stamped vinyl wraps over Booth's toes, "Haha! Wow, that's really cool Booth, I didn't take you as the type for pedicures."

Booth's face pinks and then morphs into an Alpha Male snarl, "I was playing with my _kid_ Sweets. I'm sure, if you're feeling left out, Bones here could get some pretty Power Rangers or Ninja Turtle one's for you!"

Brennan giggles quietly, "Oh, yes, I remember the Power Rangers and their lycra costumes… they'd suit you Sweets."

"Oh Ha Ha! Real funny guys."

Booth grumbles, "Well, you asked for it."

Brennan takes a glance at the time on her cell phone and stands to go to the kitchen, "I'm just going to get started on dinner then prepare your medications, Booth. I'll be back in a moment."

When she's out of earshot, Sweets moves to the seat beside Booth, "So, Booth, how are you coping with Dr Brennan here full time?" At Booth's angry face, Sweets appeases, "Hey, hey, I'm not being _shrinky_ \- just asking as a friend. I know it'd be hard when you can't rely on your feelings."

Booth looks at him, eyebrows dangerously low over his eyes, "Whadda you mean – can't rely on my feelings?"

Sweets pulls out three transparent A4 sized slides and places them on the coffee table, "These are your perioperative PET scans Agent Booth." Pointing to each he elaborates, "This one is _before_ your surgery, this one is _during_ , and _this_ one is yesterday's – when you had your staples removed."

When he didn't explain further Booth mutters, "Yeah, real pretty, Sweets. How'd you get a hold of those anyway?"

"The point is, see this one – the areas of the brain linked to romance and love are just nice and normal - this is pre-operative. Then, _these_ two – lit up like the fourth of July…"

"And?"

"And, these post-operative images show that your feelings for Dr Brennan are just temporary… just like every other symptom of the surgery."

Booth's eyes darted toward the kitchen where Brennan was messing around, oblivious to their conversation before he growls intimidatingly, "That's bull shit Sweets. You and I both know it."

"No, Agent Booth. Psychology is not just a soft science, as Dr Brennan maintains." He gestures to the slides, "in this case, it's pretty substantiated with tangible proof and _she_ knows it."

"What do you mean Bones knows it?"

"Dr Brennan was the one to tell me about the PET scans. She…"

Booth stands, almost shaking with anger, "Get out."

Sweets holds his hands up in defence, "Now, hang on a sec, Booth…"

This time Booth doesn't hold back and he grabs the cowering shrink by the collar, growling loudly, "GET OUT!"

…

Making it back into the living room in time to see her partner throwing their shrink out the front door before slamming it hard, Brennan covers the distance between them in record time, running a soothing palm over his face, the other picking up his precariously racing pulse over his chest, "Booth! What's wrong? What did he say?"

Booth shrugs out of her grasp, stalks into his room and slams the door.

Completely taken aback; thoughts racing and unsure of what to do; she looks around the room desperately, noticing the three neatly placed slides on the coffee table.

With a gut dropping sense of guilty awareness, she walks quickly to his room, trying the door, only to find it locked, "Booth! Booth! Open the door please. I know what he said and it's not true. I _know_ the depth of your feelings for me… I _know_ it, Booth… Booth? Booth, if you don't unlock this door I will do it myself!"

Waiting 20 seconds to no avail, Brennan jogs to the kitchen, pulls a butter knife out of the drawer and returns to easily pick the lock.

Opening the door, she sees him face up on the bed staring at the ceiling, an angry scowl painted over his face.

"Booth?"

"I don't want to talk right now Bones. I gotta calm down before I blow a gasket…" fisting the pillow he growls angrily, "Fucking shrink!"

"Listen, Booth…"

"Bones. Why didn't you tell me?"

She sinks tiredly on his bed and runs a tender hand over his chest, "Booth, would you have even listened? You were insistent and confident of your affections and wouldn't take "no" for an answer." She exhales loudly with his silence then haltingly continues, "I believe my initial interpretation of your perioperative data was incorrect… I… I _trust_ you Booth… and I _love_ you… I know you love me too because, even though we haven't properly made love yet, you've… God, I know this isn't factual or tangible but, you've shown me in so many ways…"

Greeted with silence she continues, "Can you please say something? I'm worried that you're going to have another seizure with how fast your heart's beating."

He sighs and speaks slowly, taking it all in, "So, you're telling me… that, squinty-logical-to-the-death-Dr-Brennan is going to take non-factual, non-tangible _feelings_ over visual proof?"

Her lips pout proudly before realising what's at stake and so she nods, "Yes."

He gives her a small, stunned smile and grabs her hand, lacing their fingers, "Wow…. This is a first… Temperance Brennan admits she's _wrong_."

Brennan, slipping back into her normal, logical persona, elaborates, "As I said, Booth, what I assume Sweets said to you before you threw him out, is merely an _interpretation_ on factual data; it is a _theory_ … _not_ fact. He had no right to pounce on you as soon as I took my leave and bombard you with postulations that I had shared with him in _confidence_ that were based on nothing but my own insecurities."

Booth smiles properly, "Thanks Bones."

She leans over him and lightly kissed his lips, "You're welcome… Are you… are you OK now?"

He sighs and sits up, crossing his legs, not without a few cracking sounds, "Yeah, I'm OK. Sorry for scaring you. I'm all calmed down now."

Grabbing the blood pressure cuff from the bedside table, she slides his arm through it and waits silently for confirmation of the fact that his blood pressure is indeed within normal parameters.

Sniffing the air, Booth questions, "Hey, Bones, what's cooking?"

Eyebrows lifting with the memory of her prior kitchen commitments; Brennan drops the cuff and runs into the kitchen only to find a black, charcoaled porterhouse steak smoking on the grill. Turning on the fan and opening the windows, Brennan removes it from the heat and dumps it into the sink cursing loudly. Fanning the smoke towards the open window, she jumps when she feels a set of strong hands encircle her waist from the back. He speaks in a sing-song coddling voice, "Aw, baby, you cooked me a steak."

She pulls back enough to smack him with the tea towel softly, "Don't get used to it, Humpty." She heaves a sigh, "Well, it looks like take-out is on the menu for tonight."

He seizes the towel from her grasp, lets it drop unceremoniously to the floor and pulls her tight, lips brushing against hers as he sooths, "I think I'll live..." and with a squeeze to her arse, he growls, "...and don't call me Humpty."

He kisses her solidly, hotly; trying to reassure her of the depth of his feelings, edging her up against the kitchen counter, running his hands under her top and against the smooth, warm skin of her back. When she pulls away to take a gasping breath, his lips continue wetly down her neck as his hand trail hungrily over her belly and upward, "Ah, Booth, God, please, slow down."

She pulls his face up to hers and kisses him chastely, despite the raging desire in her eyes, "I'll be damned if I'm going to let you return to the hospital because of a sex-induced seizure."

He smiles, nods and breathes heavily through his nose, eyes fixed adoringly on hers, thumbs caressing her cheekbones, "OK, OK… listen, I'm sorry for losing it before, baby. I wasn't angry at you. I was livid with Sweets and I just… I had to calm down. I don't want you to have to go through the stress of a seizure again."

She nods and looks down, briefly saddened by the memory of his last hospital visit.

Tipping her head up with a finger under her chin, he dips low to make eye contact, "Hey, you know I love you right?"

Brennan smiles openly, running her hands up his strong biceps, coming to rest on his shoulders, "Yes. Now, go sit down, I'm going to order Thai and we can watch the rest of the Star Battles Saga."

"It's Star Wars, Bones." Taking in her wicked grin he smiles amorously, dropping a quick kiss on her lips, "But you're just teasing aren't you, you saucy minx."

"Just giving you a dose of your own medicine _Humpty_ … speaking of medicine, yours is overdue. I'll grab that first then order."

Slapping him on his well-formed gluteus maximus and sending him off to the living room, Brennan realises that this has been the longest break from her passion of anthropology since she began her career and wonders if she has ever had so much non-work-related fun. Despite the fact that it's been an off-the-charts emotional week and a half; even with seeing him weak and in pain; and even though their circumstances are changing at a break-neck pace in spite of her absolute fear of change; Brennan decides that, no, she has never enjoyed a break like this… and she can't help but smile at the thought.

 **Was it too OOC? What shall we do with Mr Meddling Sweets? I've got the next chapter ready to go but, seriously, your reviews are like a drug high - pushing me to write quicker... They are like my very own, chemical-free anti-depressants! Thank you sooooo very much!  
**

 **(Please drop me a line :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**I kinda like the little baby duck and so it pains me to write this chapter (and, _no_ , I'm not going to _kill_ him off… I love him too much for that!)…**

Brennan slams the door of her Prius and sits silently for a moment – contemplating the conversation she'd just shared with the administration's manager of the hospital. Being Booth's Medical Power of Attorney, she had made an independent enquiry into how Sweets had been able to get copies of Booth's medical records and, looking down at the photocopied FBI letter-headed form in her hands, stamp-signed by the one and only Deputy Director Andrew Hacker, she shakes her head in disbelief.

Granted, she'd only met the man a handful of times but Deputy Director Hacker certainly makes no secret of his attraction to her and she wonders (against her moral compass) if she can use this to her advantage. Brennan decides to take a leaf out of Booth's book on _How to Trick Perps and Manipulate People_ and pay the Deputy Director a friendly visit to get to the bottom of how Sweets is now deemed as _unrestrictedly_ authorised to access Booth's personal records _all_ upon Hacker's signature.

…

"Temperance! How lovely to see you. Please, take a seat." The Deputy Director makes a move to kiss her on the cheek but she manages to dodge him without fanfare, opting for a brief, obligatory hand shake and a polite smile.

"Andrew, thank you for seeing me at short notice."

"Anytime Temperance, anytime. So how's our Booth going? Dr Sweets mentioned that you are taking care of his recovery."

She nods with a smile, "Yes, he's doing quite well. I appreciate you allowing him extended sick leave to properly convalesce."

He runs a confident hand down his silk tie, leans back into his leather chair and offers her a toothy, awkward version of a charm smile, "Of course, he's one of our best and we've got to take care of our top ranking agents."

"He certainly is, and on that note, I'd like to further thank you for requesting that Dr Sweets be sent all the medical records relating to Booth's surgery and post-operative progress. He's played quite a significant part in Booth's recovery." She almost chokes on the lie, but she has learnt vital lessons from Booth in all their years of interrogating and wonders if this particular trick would yield any useful information on the smarmy Psychologist.

Hacker's eyebrows lower in confusion, "Well, I'm certainly glad that he's assisting with Booth's recovery. He did request authorisation from me to access Booth's records but, as Booth is on sick leave and under the temporary umbrella of work cover insurance, I advised him that he'd have to get the OK from Booth himself."

Brennan's nostrils flare with barely disguisable rage, "Oh, well, I'm sure he must have consulted Booth then."

"Well, I'm glad Dr Sweets went through the proper channels and is proving to be helpful – even if it is off the clock hours. He's got an admirable work ethic that young man."

Brennan manages to hide a scowl with a forced smile, all but gagging over the obligation to agree with him, "Yes, yes, he certainly has." She coughs and stands, "Well, I simply came to thank you for your support and update you on Booth's fine progressions. His exact words are that he _will be back in the saddle again very soon_." She gestures in an effort to explain, "Though, he's not into equestrianism… that is just an idiomatic expression to indicate that he will be healed enough to come back to work very shortly, even just for light duty. I must get back though; his next dose of medication is due within the hour."

Hacker smiles with affection at her explanation and stands to escort Brennan out, fumbling over a bold pitch to woo her, "So, Temperance, I wonder if I might be so forward as to ask you out on a date to the ballet this coming Friday night?"

She smiled sweetly, "Whilst that is rather tempting, Andrew, I find that I am unable to truly focus my attentions on anything other than aiding Booth in his recovery at this time." And to completely throw him off her scent she added, "Also, I don't date men."

He stutters, "Oh… oh of course… I apologise."

"It's a common mistake. Thank you for your time."

They shake courteous hands briefly and she bids him farewell.

…

Heels clipping ominously across the tiles of the FBI corridors; stormy eyes set intently on her destination; Brennan wildly yanks open the door to Sweets' office and stares him down. The young female agent sitting across from Sweets takes one look at the angry scientist and, having seen her raw temper in action previously, she starts to evacuate the dangerous scene, calling out over her shoulder, "Nice knowin' ya Sweets. I'll re-schedule with Nancy for next week," adding under her breath, "…if you're still breathing."

Sweets lifts an imploring arm after the retreating agent, "Karla! Wait!" And over a tight whisper he worries, "Don't leave me!"

Sweets tentatively stands; knowing he's about to be royally anthro-whipped, he holds his hands up: surrendering easily, "Now, Dr Brennan…"

Brennan's voice drops to a dangerous measured growl, "Don't you _dare_ , "Now Brennan" me, Lance Sweets! You sit down and listen very, _very_ clearly as I do not have the patience nor the self-control to be repeating myself."

Suitably terrified, the Psychologist shrinks into his seat, hiding his quivering chin with steepled fingers in an effort to hold some sort of posture against the intimidating anthropologist.

Pacing the room, trying to get her anger under control, Brennan finally stops and drags a chair over to his; subconsciously eliminating the secure barrier of the coffee table between them, "The way I see it, you have one of only _two_ choices, Sweets, and the first is by far, in your best interests and I am only giving you this option because I _had_ , up until recently grown rather fond of you… even going so far as _defending_ you numerously against Booth's taunts." She sighs sadly, "But, not anymore Sweets… you're on your own now."

He nods silently, completely intrigued with the fact that she hasn't clocked him one already.

"Option one: you will not only _agree_ to, but _wholeheartedly_ support Booth and me with our decision to embark on an intimate relationship…"

Sweets' eyes bulged… this was the _LAST_ thing he imagined her starting with.

She continues, lowering her voice threateningly, her left eyebrow cocking defiantly in a silent, deadly dare to gloat or argue, "…furthermore… if _ever_ our personal relationship is called into question, or if they decide to implicate the no fraternisation rule, you will defend our private _and_ professional partnerships even if it risks your employment…"

He quirks an eyebrow at this but she ploughs on…

"…Additionally, as of _now_ … our shrink sessions with you are _OVER_ … No more meet ups under the guise of _professional concern_ … you will mediate with the appropriate levels of management within the ranks of the FBI to ensure we are out of your office for good - even if you have to fabricate session notes to maintain a suitable guise. Booth and I will _never again_ be called into your office to be picked at, studied or scrutinised by your meddling, smarmy intent and, if you perchance to randomly stumble upon _either_ of us, whether it be at work or within our community – you will turn and walk the other way as fast as your scheming, meatless legs will carry you."

At this, Sweets interjects, "I think you may be _slightly_ over-reacting Dr Brennan…"

Completely ignoring his protest she cuts in, "And if _any_ of the aforementioned terms of this agreement are breached in _any_ way, shape or form, then we will both be obliged take legal action against you… and you _know_ that I am more than able to afford the _best_ legal representation necessary to completely ruin your career and reputation, Sweets. Even with your extensive qualifications, you would be lucky to obtain employment within the McDonalds franchise after I am finished with you."

Sweets laughs nervously, "Surely you can see you are completely over-reacting, Dr Brennan? I am your friend first and foremost. I honestly care for you and…"

Brennan stands with demanding authority, jabbing a finger to his sternum, " _SECOND_ option: I have you _permanently_ disbarred from the soft-science field of psychology, _sued_ for the extensive damages incurred, relating to the _illegal_ obtainment of confidential medical records by means of forgery. I imagine, also with _this_ option that, once informed of your fraudulent behaviour, the Deputy Director of the FBI will _also_ seek legal action against you for _FORGING_ _his_ _signature_! And, seriously Sweets…" she shakes her head with angry disbelief, "…need I continue or have I adequately captured your dis-interest for this particular option?"

Sweets slumps even further into his chair, "How did you…"

Brennan's eyes flair with impending danger, "I have my ways, _Sweets_. You crossed a line… you _hurt_ Booth, made him question the very foundation of his beliefs, and almost sent him into a stress related seizure… and I will be _damned_ if I let you get away with that."

They both pause for a moment or two to collect their thoughts and calm their hearts. Sweets nods dejectedly, "Obviously, I'd be a fool to not go with your first offer… and, for what it's worth Dr Brennan, I'm _sorry_."

She sighs, her anger deflating a little in sympathy for his utterly devastated, child-like face, "Why did you do it Sweets?"

He shakes his head as tears form in his puppy-dog eyes, "I don't know. I just _knew_ you were made for each other, ya know? Even despite the FBI's policy against fraternisation… hell, I've spent the last year and a half observing and writing about you two… I guess I just got impatient."

Brennan slumped into the seat, "Yes, but, instead of encouraging us into a relationship in a _healthy_ way, Sweets, you… you kept fabricating false barriers and manipulating facts to convince us of the other's disinterest… or _interest_ depending upon your motive at that particular moment. And, honestly, your _motive_ is the one thing that I cannot completely comprehend, Sweets because it keeps swinging like a pendulum from one theory to the next without any substantiated support for any concrete notion."

She takes in his desolate form and reaches out a soothing hand to his knee, empathetically drawn to be protective of her and Booth's baby duck, "I really don't mean to hurt you when I say that your craft is a soft science… and I truly believe you are a very clever person… perhaps even verging on genius levels but, Sweets, you've got to use your wiles for the _good_ of your patients… be long-suffering and let their natural propensities unfold and blossom and _then_ use your talents to _guide_ them appropriately… do not prematurely resort to manipulation to serve your _own_ purpose as this provides no credence whatsoever to your chosen field of psychology and this is where my true gripe with your supposed expertise lies... Honestly, it renders it _completely_ null and void when you pre-emptively dive in - intent upon a hidden agenda to serve only _your_ objectives."

Completely humbled with her rare, sensitively spoken, sincere words of advice, he swipes a hand across his wet nose, "yeah, thanks… you're right Dr Brennan… completely right."

She smiles and dips in for a perfunctory hug before standing, ironing the wrinkles of her skirt with her hands, "I have strong affection for you, Lance. I cannot promise that I will be amenable to the idea of keeping in contact with you… that creates a real conflict of interest and, as you know, my loyalties have always, and _will_ always rest with Booth. That's a given. At this point in time, I cannot see us pursuing _any_ sort of relationship – professional, casual or otherwise, but, I do _care_ for you."

Sweets looks up at her with sad, weepy eyes, "Well, that's the best outcome I could hope for so, thank you Dr Brennan."

She smiles sadly, "I am sorry that it's come to this, Sweets, but, you understand, I _have_ to side with Booth on the matter because you slighted him for your own personal gain… as a professional. I am glad that you have chosen the first option and I hope that your career is not significantly affected in a negative way by your past poor choices." She nods at him as she backs out his office, "Though I do not believe in providence; nonetheless, I wish you good fortune!"

And with that, she was out the door, leaving the psychologist raw and ready to humbly glean from the clear cut principles of her rage.

 **Was that too harsh on our baby duck? I think he was backed into a convenient corner for B &B… What's next for this piece of fluff… I'm struggling for ideas!? **

**I decided three chapters ago that I would wrap it up and roll it into the COMPLETED box but your reviews honestly keep me tippety-tappety-typing!**

 **Thank you for your reviews!**


	15. Chapter 15

****Thank you so much for your support of this story! It has now officially cranked over as being my longest Fan Fiction and I think I've got at least another 10,000 words to add. It is a personal achievement that I never thought I'd make and I'm so grateful for your reviews as they encourage me to stick with it despite my family commitments!  
****

 **This is a double chapter for you. There's sooo much to take in with this one and I wonder if I might kindly ask you for your thoughts.**

 **Again, I didn't realise how different our spelling is in Australia! So, please remember I am using Oz spelling for continuity and I had better make a disclaimer - I don't own Bones.**

 **Warning: some M rated content in this one ;)**

With the sun setting on the horizon, it has been almost four hours since Brennan left Booth alone in his apartment and she's anxious to get dinner started and see how he's fared on his own for so long. _Perhaps we can watch another Star Wars episode before bed_ , she thinks as she places the groceries on the floor so that she can unlock the door.

She nudges the door shut with her backside and toes off her heels with an appreciative sigh. Laden with bags, Brennan's breath catches when she takes in the sight before her… candles lit on every flat surface of his apartment, soft lyrical music playing in the background and the welcoming aroma of freshly baking dinner.

Her face lights up as Booth greets her, as handsome as ever in a matching dark blue pants and vest set over the rolled up sleeves of a white business shirt, a geometric patterned tie just setting the whole ensemble off and weakening her knees, "Booth… did you? Wow… this is beautiful."

His nervous expression brightens with her approving smile, "Yeah? Here, let me take those." He grabs half of the grocery bags and they take them to the kitchen together. Placing the cold items in the fridge and freezer whilst Booth packs away the pantry food, Brennan breathes deeply in appreciation, "Mmmm… what are you cooking? It smells quite appetising."

"It's eggplant lasagne and I've made a sort of side salad to go with it... Don't get your hopes up though… I haven't tried it before, I just Googled it, sooo…"

His ramblings slow and stop when she slips her arms around his torso and brings him in for a long hug, resting her head on his chest, "Mmmm, you smell nice too… I missed you."

Rubbing her back easily he sighs contently, "Me too, sweetheart. Hey, how did you go today? Find anything out?"

She arches her neck so their noses are touching softly and smiles, "Yes, I'll tell you about it over dinner. I can't believe you cooked me dinner… and got dressed up in my favourite suit…" with one hand still wrapped around his torso, she smooths the other slowly down the front of his chest approvingly, "…how did you know that's my favourite suit anyway?"

He chuckles lightly and teases, his eyes darkening as he stares into hers, "I see you undressing me with your eyes every time I wear it, Bones… admit it…"

"Ha, I don't think so! There's no such thing, although Angela says that we frequently engage in eye sex. You two are like opposite-sex-versions of each other you know. Except you aren't bisexual…"

He squeezes her, "Too right, I'm not. I'm a ladies man all the way."

She chuckles with a memory, returning her head to his chest, "I implied to Hacker that I was lesbian today."

"You what? Why? "

"He keeps looking at me in a manner that makes me suspect he has ulterior, sexually based motives and he propositioned me today so I figured I'd throw him off with a little White House lie. I do not like lying but, as you said, sometimes it's necessary."

He laughs just as the buzzer on the oven rings, "Haha, good one, Bones!" Pushing her gently into the dining room, Booth sits her down and pours her a glass of red wine, "Sit tight, I'll be back in a minute."

She goes to stand, "Are you sure you don't want a hand?"

Booth places his hands on her shoulders and massages them affectionately, as he leans down do whisper in her ear, causing her skin to goose-bump and tickle, "I want you to relax, Bones. You've been looking after me like no one ever has… le'me spoil you a bit OK?"

Brennan turns her head to speak and he catches her lips in a brief but deep kiss before heading to the kitchen to prepare their meals.

As she sits rolling her glass in the warm flickering light of the candles, admiring the tears of wine sliding slowly down the side of the glass; Brennan can't help her lips from turning up in a contented smile. In a way, despite the obviously stressful confrontations, she thinks that the day could not have gone better. Since she had come to terms with where Booth and she were heading with their personal relationship, Brennan had been rather openly pre-occupied with worry about how the FBI would handle their change in status. With that major hurdle snuffed though, she feels that she can finally relax and enjoy their blossoming romance.

With a crashing, splintering sound from the kitchen, Brennan starts, almost spilling her wine.

Booth's annoyed voice calms her heart a little, "Ahh, shit!"

"You OK, Booth?"

"Yeah, fine, nothing to see here."

"You sure?"

"It's fine, Bones!"

She smiles and rolls her eyes, "O-kay."

A half a minute later, she hears the crunch of shoes walking over glass and smiles as he walks out with two steaming plates. Setting one down in front of her, he offers a charming smile, "I'll clean it up later, I'm too hungry."

He returns to the kitchen, crunching again over the fractured glass and reappears with a wineglass of orange juice for himself and sits down, unfolding a napkin over his lap. Dipping his glass into clink against hers he says softly, "Cheers."

Brennan hums appreciatively as she tastes the lasagne and salad, speaking inelegantly around her food, "This is… mmm… so good."

He laughs at her uncharacteristic bad manners, "Glad you like it Bones." He swallows a bite and reaches to hold her free hand, gently rubbing a thumb over her fingers, "I'm just… I don't know what I'd do without you Bones… I just want you to know that I really appreciate what you do for me and I know you've been worried about how work's going to handle our relationship but whatever happens, we'll work it out, OK?"

She smiles, nods and holds a finger up to her mouth as she chews and swallows, "Oh, I know, Booth. I had a very productive day sorting that out… you'd be rather proud of my investigative and interrogative skills."

Feeling a flush of pride at the thought that she's serious enough about _them_ to be investigating and interrogating, his face perks up, "Yeah?"

"Yes. Although the sequence in which it's presented does not alter the truth in any way, I know you believe it holds sway so, do you want the good or the bad news first?"

He grins at her play on his words, "Ah, hit me with the bad - get it out of the way first."

"Well, Sweets now knows about our relationship."

Booths swallowed his fear with a gulp of orange juice, "What? How'd he…"

She offered a self-satisfied smile, "I told him."

He choked a little on his beverage, "You what? Why? I thought we were gonna keep it under wraps until we could work out how to play it."

In between savoured bites of dinner, Brennan explains what she discovered at the hospital and how it was Hacker's signature on the release form and how she decided to pay him a visit.

"Slimy bastard! I'll have him done for invasion of privacy!"

"No, see, Booth, it wasn't him who authorised it. Andrew said that Sweets had given him the letter to sign but he advised Sweets that because you were on extended sick leave that it was out of his jurisdiction and he'd have to go through you. Obviously he didn't go through you… he must have used Andrew's signature stamp."

The legs of Booth's chair bark over the floorboards as he jumps up in anger, "He _what_? I'll _kill_ him!"

Brennan rolls her eyes and tugs him back to a seated position by his sleeve, "Booth, calm your fuel tanks and sit down!"

His rage is knocked off centre by his affection for her, "It's _jets_ , Bones, calm your _jets_."

She winks, "Well, calm your Alpha male wrath and sit."

He again stands and pulls her up with him, "Let's go sit on the sofa." She goes to take their dishes to the sink, "No, leave that, Bones, I've got it. Just bring your wine and come sit with me."

When they are comfortably settled, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, fingers laced, she continued summarising her and Sweets' conversation almost verbatim up until where she presented option two.

He looks at her and Brennan's heart bloomed with the dark, thinly veiled lust in his eyes, "Jesus, Bones, do ya know how god-damn sexy that is? I wish I could have been a fly on the wall watching you go all crazy-scientist on him."

Her nose crinkles, "Why would you want to be a fly? They only have a life cycle of approximately two weeks."

He wraps an arm around her and squeezes, "So, what happened next?"

Brennan sighs, "Oh Booth, obviously he agreed to option one but then he apologised and his doggy-eyes started watering… it was… it was very difficult."

She recounts the rest of the conversation as Booth pulls her in so that her head is resting on his shoulder. Leaning in, he places a lingering kiss over her forehead, "You're the most caring, loving person I know, Bones. I would have kicked his lily-white arse into next Tuesday." Then, without thinking he adds, "You'll make a good mum one day."

She looks up in question and he kisses her lightly on the lips, "Sorry, I know that we haven't discussed it again and whatever happens, happens but it's the truth, Bones…whether you want kids in the future or not… any kid would be lucky to have you as his mum."

She places her head back on his shoulder, mind spinning with possibilities. _He_ wants _to have kids with me now? He's changed his mind again?_

Sensing her racing thoughts, Booths rubs a hand over her back, "Hey, take a breath, Bones, I can hear the cogs turning at super-speed in that sexy head of yours and I'd hate to see it explode."

She scoffs, "Ha ha, very funny, Booth."

After a good few moments of silence he asks, "Whatcha thinking, baby?"

She drones sarcastically, "That you should stop calling me baby." At his non-response, and after another few pregnant moments of silence, she sighs, "I just… I had given up on the idea of becoming impregnated after you explicitly expressed that you couldn't. I… no matter what I said about Fisher or other donor options, I had only seriously considered you as being the father of my child."

His heart raced at the possibilities, "Well, that makes two of us, Bones, that's great."

Lost for words and, getting rather uncomfortable with the honesty of the conversation, Brennan remains quiet.

"Hey, what I 'm saying is that, maybe it won't happen straight away but… I kinda like the idea of having a baby with you… Bones, can you say something please? I'm kinda going out on a limb here."

She sighs and pulls back to sit straight, "Booth, it's… it's rather complicated."

Starving for contact, he reaches for her hand and with a hint of desperation in his voice he asks, "What do you mean, complicated? It was pretty clear cut when you decided you wanted to use my sperm to create a baby."

"I know, I know and… please don't get upset, I just… Oh, I don't know."

He reaches to cup her face but she's hesitant to look him in the eye, "Hey, look at me… Is it because of the tumour? Whatever it is Temperance, I won't be offended, just… just be honest with me."

To his surprise, Brennan's eyes start to water and with scattered bouts of silence; she tries to explain, "Booth… I was a _challenging_ child… I had all sorts of sensory issues and cognitive issues that proved to be quite difficult for myself and my family… I had certain…"

Sensing her distress he interjected, "Hey, it's OK."

The tears that welled in her eyes overflow now as she shakes her head, "No, Booth, I was required to have a full schedule of occupational therapists and speech therapists and, still it was difficult… no, it was… positively _gruelling_ … I didn't fit in at school… I… It's embarrassing to admit, especially to you, but I was literally spat at and teased in horrible ways every day of my school life… it only got worse when I was placed in the system and, God, Booth, _I_ am aware of what hula-hoops I had to jump through to assimilate… _you_ are not."

"Hey, Bones, it's OK."

His heart aching for her, Booth tries to wrap her in his arms again only to be met with an unmovable body, "No, Booth, it's just that… I have… I have an _overwhelming_ desire to pro-create. I _want_ to have a child and be a strong, influential mother figure but I am completely aware of my genetic make-up… I am aware of the pros _and_ the cons of having a child on the autistic spectrum but, Booth… Parker is so socially aware and so charismatic… you have no idea of the issues that my genetics pose to our prospective offspring. At least what I proposed to you as a no-strings-attached sperm donor before we knew of your tumour was easy - it relinquished you of any prospective risks associated with having a child with autism or Asperger's."

Booth leans in and wipes her tears away with a tenderness that sends shivers down her spine, "So our kid might have autism… and they might be born with an extra chromosome… and they might be blessed with green eyes and red hair, and they might be born with a higher IQ than Einstein or a simple IQ like me… Bones, you think I haven't thought about these very things before?"

Her nose crinkles through her tears, "How can you contemplate something that you aren't even aware of?"

He kisses her forehead tenderly, "Bones, I get paid to observe, interrogate and dig down to the truth… I _know_ you, Temperance… I've known your struggles right from the get-go and I respect you for having gone through what you went through to make sense of this confusing world... and I love you even more so for what you have to go through daily." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, "I have a cousin, on my mum's side… he was… well, we grew up together… that is until mum left. He had difficulties Bones. The kids at school used to make fun of him… I'd kick a few arses when it was necessary but he really struggled. I was a firsthand witness of the shit he had to endure to function daily but he did it… and I… I know I did some things that I regret in high school, Bones but I defended him all through high school and he survived. In fact, the guy is making four times the amount of money I pull in, has a lovely wife who just adores him and two kids who are just thriving… they're home-schooled but they could rival any kid who's two grades above 'em in the schooling system."

He pulls her eyes up to meet his, admiring how they glisten beautifully in the warm light of the candles, "Hey, the point is… I don't know anyone else in the universe that I'd rather make babies with." Catching a fresh bout of tears with his thumb, he kisses her nose, "I _know_ the true spirit of you Temperance… I _love_ you – supposed faults and all… and knowing all this, I'd be _honoured_ to make a baby with you and raise him or her within the love of our family… no matter what shit we have to overcome… we'll get through it together because we're Booth and Bones, Baby!"

She offers a wet, weepy laugh and buries her head beneath his chin and sobs. He lets her cry it out for a few minutes, setting a soothing, circular motion over her back, "Hey, sweetheart, it's OK."

Brennan sniffles and sits up a little, not quite leaving the comfort of his arms but not relinquishing it completely, "I'm sorry, Booth, I've just… It's the first time since I was fifteen that I've admitted it out loud."

He sooths, "Hey, and why's that, huh? Why do you talk about it as if it's such a god-damn curse, Bones? You're a fucking world renowned scientist for god's sake! And, if that's not enough, you bless the smut-loving population of the world with award winning, New York Times best sellers!"

He relaxes when she bites, "I don't write _smut_ , Booth! I write crime/ mystery novels first and foremost that are interlaced with erotica… there is a difference."

Pulling her into his lap, she easily straddles him, skirt riding up in invitation. He slowly but firmly slides his hands up her thighs and they disappear under her skirt until they reach her rounded arse. He smiles darkly when he realises she's wearing a thong and he massages her arse with approving hands, never losing eye contact in the soft light of the candle lit space; eyes darkening further with every breath exhaled between them, "And you do it better than anyone, baby."

She grinds easily against his growing length, savouring this position of power after such an emotional display, she offers a breathy sigh, "You think?"

Gasping for control, he growls, "God, yes… C'mere."

Keeping one hand on her arse, Booth pulls her face to his and draws her explicitly closer, diving in for a mind numbing kiss; a clash of tongues and panting promises, "I want to make love to you, Bones."

Getting words out between hungry kisses, Brennan replies, "Only half a week to go… Ah… doctor's appointment is in three days."

His free hand working desperately on the buttons of her blouse, Booth shakes his head, "What's three days…" leaving a wet trail from her neck to between her breasts, he positively growls, "I can't wait baby… you're right here… and I'm right here… I want you and…" as her back arches, the hand on her arse travels downward, slipping beneath the lace of her thong to find the hot wetness of her pussy, "Jesus, Bones! You're so wet." Dipping his index finger and middle finger into her hot centre, she whimpers and he groans over more tongue kneading kisses, "Fuck, you're hot."

Just as she's about to give up and yield to his wishes, the apartment is filled with the ear piercing wail of the fire alarm. Booth's head falls back onto the couch in exasperation, "Fu-cking hell! Perfect timing!"

It takes a moment for her lust addled brain to register it but when she does, Brennan unfolds herself from Booth's grasp, pulls her skirt back down and manages to crookedly secure a couple of buttons on her blouse to be sure it won't pop open.

Searching the apartment for any signs of fire and coming up blank, Brennan runs for the kitchen to get a broom to turn off the offending object.

It's not until she's three quarters of the way across the kitchen tiles that two senses wash over her at once – the sound of Booth's voice booming over the blaring alarm, yelling at her to stop… and blinding pain. Looking down, Brennan's face pales at the bright bloody-red footprints she'd left over the kitchen floor. In the back of her pain muddled mind, she remembers that Booth had dropped a glass on the kitchen floor earlier and she must have walked straight through it, her senses too overloaded with the deafening alarm to notice the pain.

Without registering his presence, she's effortlessly lifted off the ground and deposited onto the kitchen counter. She watches Booth in a mind-numb blur as he opens the window, flicks on the fan, grabs a broom and stabs the fire alarm on the ceiling until it leaves their ears ringing with the sudden silence.

When she's able to form a lucid thought through the shock, she notices his eyes are wide and wild, "Bones, baby, I'm so sorry. That was so stupid of me to not clean it up. Oh, God, are you in pain?" Taking in her dazed expression he whispers to himself and shakes his head, "Yeah, right, stupid question, dumb arse!"

She surfaces from the initial shock and reaches out to reassure him, "It's OK, Booth, I'm… I'm fine."

He shakes his head in disagreement, heart racing at the sight of the blood dripping steadily from her feet in a splattering puddle beneath her, "No, Bones, you're not. I'm gonna call an ambulance."

Brows furrowing, she looks at him in confusion, adrenaline has tamed the true bite of her injuries down to a dull throb, "Don't be ridiculous. It's merely a flesh wound."

"Well, I'm taking you up to the hospital regardless and I can't drive or carry you like I'd normally be able to so, I'm sorry, Bones, ambulance it is."

She rolls her eyes but doesn't argue so he takes that as an OK, not that he would have accepted any argument. He turns on the kitchen light and walks around the apartment blowing all the candles out; realising with self-scourging that they were the most likely culprit for setting off the alarm.

Grabbing his cell phone from the coffee table he dials and then holds it to his ear, "Ambulance please… Yeah, hey, my girlfriend has just walked over a whole heap of broken glass, she's bleeding pretty bad and I've just had a craniotomy so I can't lift her or drive…. Yeah… yeah…" As he relays their address, he unlocks the front door so that the paramedics can enter freely, grabs some towels out of the linen cupboard and gently lifts her feet up onto the bench, resting them on the towels to ease the flow of blood.

When he hangs up, he positions himself behind her and wraps his arms around her, tenderly unbuttons her blouse and re-buttons it straight, whispering apologies and sweet nothings into her ear, rubbing his palms over her shoulders and down her arms in a successful effort to sooth her.

"Booth, I'll go by myself so that you can rest… It's been a big day for you…"

"Like hell you're going alone. No way, Bones, I'm coming. No arguments."

Knowing that she wasn't going to get anywhere with his alpha male protection mode on such high alert, she acquiesces with a condition, "Well, at least get your medication sorted before we go… I don't want a repeat of the last time you went without pain meds… and be sure to take your Keppra. Anti-convulsants are essential for you at the moment as it seems your seizures were both stress related."

"OK, mum." He sighs and kisses the back of her neck, "Honestly, Bones, I've been feeling 100% better these last few days. I feel like for the first time I'm actually getting back to my normal self."

She smiles and looks over her shoulder at him, catching his lips briefly with hers, "That's really good, Booth. I'm so reassured by that, and I've noticed that you seem more yourself recently too. It's very encouraging."

He leans in to kiss her lovingly and is interrupted by a loud knock, "Paramedics!"

She shoos him away and tells him to get his medications to take with them.

"In here!" she yells out.

Booth returns to the kitchen and introduces himself to the paramedics. For the first time he has a proper look at her feet; his heart squeezes in empathy and his conscience burns with the horrible damage. In addition to shards of glass sliced like razors into the soles of both feet, the intact base of the glass is deeply embedded into the arch and almost to the ankle of her left foot; blood pooling in the cup base and overflowing at a sickening rate. He must have visibly paled because Brennan asks, "Booth? Are you OK? Do you need to sit down?"

He shakes his head and moves to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her torso, he whispers, "I'm so sorry, baby."

She tries to reassure him, thankful that he can't see the tears rolling down her face, "It's… it's fine, Booth, really, I have a very high pain threshold."

After assessing the true extent of her injuries, the older of the two men places a gloved hand over her shin and gives a gentle perfunctory squeeze, "Temperance, we're going to have to take you in I'm afraid. I don't want to remove the base portion of the glass until we get to hospital because given the amount of blood loss; I suspect we may have nicked one of the major blood vessels in your foot."

She nods and Booth realises that she knew that already. The medic had just confirmed her fears, "Yes, I suspected as much… the great saphenous vein."

The medic smiles and looks to Booth, "She knows her anatomy!" Seeing the concern in Booth's face he explains whilst the other medic quickly runs to get a gurney from the vehicle, "It shouldn't be a big issue; we just want to make sure your girlfriend is safe is all. We just don't want to risk much more blood loss. Then at least once we're in there they can have a really thorough go-over to make sure they get all the glass out." Giving her leg another soft squeeze, he smiles at his patient, "You did a pretty damn good job of it Temperance. Let's go, hey?"

When they are on their way to the hospital, Booth - overwhelmed by the ambulance siren and unable to look anywhere without seeing or smelling his partner's bright red blood, discretely rings Angela to let her know of the incident. Then with a wave of dizziness, he drops the phone into his lap and reaches for the largest receptacle he can find, vomiting up his lovingly cooked dinner thinking, _how on earth did our first proper date go so very, very wrong?_

 **My son is Asperger's and, although I am yet to decide if I want to proceed with a diagnosis, so am I. Similar to Brennan in this chapter, my son used to bust his feet up without realising because he was too focused on other things... he'd leave a trail of blood and then after a while when he finally _noticed_ the blood he would freak out.  
**

 **I can promise you – no more seizures for Booth… he's on track with his healing now and I couldn't do that to him again. So, with Brennan out of order, how will this misfit pair survive?**

 **Please let me know what you think :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Just a real short one for you to keep you interested. Thanks again for your reviews!**

 **...**

Having caught a taxi to their apartment, Hank is welcomed into his grandson's living room with a back-patting hug, "So, Shrimp, how are ya holding up?"

"Yeah, a lot better, Pops. I'm getting back to my normal self now thanks to Bones."

"I told ya she's a keeper, son; and how is the good doctor anyway?"

Running a tired hand over the back of his neck, Booth slumps into the lounge next to his old Pops and sighs, "Ah, she's OK. She thinks that just because she has crutches that she's been given a free pass to continue as if nothing's happened though... it's frustrating."

Hobbling on crutches into the lounge room from the bedroom, Brennan throws a gripe over her shoulder on the way to the kitchen, "Well now you know how I felt looking after _you_ Booth; the main differences being – I didn't have a tumour the size of a golf ball removed from my head, I'm not at risk of seizure," Returning to the living room, she awkwardly passes a beer to Hank with a kiss to his cheek and eases herself into the recliner, holding her beer up with a long distance 'cheers' gesture, "and _I_ am able to consume alcoholic beverages." She punctuates the end of her sentence with a tongue poked playfully at her partner and lifts the seat rest up so she's comfortably reclined.

Hank gives a hearty laugh, "Ha, she's got a point kid; you're as stubborn as an ox when you're disabled."

"Hey! Ease up old man, I am not disabled!"

"Yeah, yeah," he takes a swig of his beer and pats his knit covered belly, "mmm this is the stuff. Haven't had a good beer in ages. They just feed ya the cheap tripe in there," he winks at the doctor, "But I've got a nice bottle of port tucked away for when my lady friends come to visit."

Brennan smiles; Booth grimaces, "Pops!"

"Ah, c'mon Shrimp! A man's gotta have a little fun."

"Ignore him, Hank, he's most likely just jealous seeing as he's not been cleared by the doctor to have sexual intercourse yet." Then speaking to Booth she explains, "It's entirely natural for men and women in their 80's to want to engage in intimacy and sex, Booth, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Bones!"

Laughing heartily Hank responds, "Haha, there's nothing wrong with a little crocheting, son… keeps the blood flowin' good."

Completely red faced, Booth growls and stands up to go walk to his room, "Oh for God's sake! You two are as bad as each other. I'm going to get an orange juice."

As Booth is busy in the kitchen the front doorbell rings. Brennan goes to stand when Hank interjects, "Just you sit there Doc, I'll get it."

Placing his beer on the coffee table, Hank takes his time getting his old frame up and across the floor to the front door. When he opens the door he looks around to find an empty hallway and looks down to spot a casserole dish with a note attached to it. With a grunt, he bends down to pick it up and returns it to the living room, placing it on the coffee table and hands Brennan the note.

"Looks delicious whatever it is. Want me to put it in the fridge for ya?"

"Yes please, Hank, I'd appreciate that."

Reading the note, Brennan smiles faintly.

After seeing Hank put the dish into the fridge, Booth returns from the kitchen, "That looks yummo Bones, who brought it over?"

She hands him the note with a small smile and his demeanour flips from happy Booth toward more of an irritated, scowling Booth.

"Ugh! He probably spat in it. I say we get Thai for dinner."

"Booth, he's very apologetic. I know that we won't ever trust him in a professional manner but I think you should forgive him... he's our baby duck."

"He committed fraud so that he could look at pictures of my brain, Bones! Apart from stupid that's just downright creepy." He sank into the sofa, "I'm not cutting the guy any slack and it's just as well he rang the doorbell and ran. He can go choke on his stupid casserole for all I care… stupid meddling shrink."

Hank interjects, "Well, I'll eat it. I could do with a nice home cooked meal."

"How long are you staying for Hank? I'll cook you my specialty mac and cheese. Booth loves it."

"Oh I don't want to burden you Doc. I came to keep you off your feet and look after you and Seeley here."

"Yeah, good luck with that Pops. She's too stubborn for her own good"

"Hey! Who's calling the jug black!"

"It's kettle, Bones"

"Well whatever the receptacle… you're being hypocritical."

"That's 'cause I'm healing, Bones. I'm almost 100% back, baby!"

Hank sips his beer and chuckles… he'd never met a pair more perfect for each other.

...

 **So what do you think? Should Booth forgive their baby duck?**


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